Learning French
by btch sprinkles
Summary: AU- Veteran Detective Dean Winchester is forced to take a conversational French course at the Community College to help with International Relations. What he doesn't expect is to discover secrets about his handsome, if not a odd French Professor Castiel Novak. As the connections between them deepen, and the past begins to unravel, Dean isn't sure who he can trust. Cas/Dean Sam/Gabe
1. Chapter 1

**Notes**: Okay so I saw this pic of Dean as a sniper and I got this idea. Honestly I don't even know, it was just something that hit me. Right now is my uber busy season in RL with work, so not sure how often I'll get this updated, and honestly no idea how many chapters this is going to be. But it sounds like a fun multi-chaptered project. It's rated Mature for future situations. This being the beginning is just the little intro. Anyway all comments are appreciated and adored. Also I should mention I'm trying to go for a sort of blend of 2014 and Angel!Cas so his personality isn't 100% canon, HOWEVER I am trying to make him believable. I'm very ocd about characterization so if he seems off to you, like unrealistic, let me know. It's tough taking him out of the angel role so bear with me. :)

**qp**

Dean groaned as he threw his car into a parking spot and glanced up at the cream colored building marked Languages. He was too goddamn busy to be doing this crap right now. There were seventeen case-files on his desk waiting for witness interviews, and his boss expected him to just drop everything and take a fucking language class? And of all languages, French?

His knuckles were white as he gripped the keys to his car and grabbed his notebook and pen. It had been years since he graduated college with his masters in criminology. Years. He was approaching forty, a veteran detective with ten years of field work under his belt. He'd earned his title as Head Detective. Seven serial killer captures under his belt, six crime ring syndicates and his unsolved case list was a fraction compared to most.

And now he had to set foot on this community college campus and take French. French? All because his department wanted to work more closely with Canada involving international trafficking. A ring had been discovered using the Canadian border, a place no one was really looking because they were all-too focused on the country south of the border.

Well Dean wasn't having any of it. Except he was, because that son of a bitch Zachariah Carver was giving him no option whatsoever. Things had been somewhat easier when his bastard, but effective father, John Winchester was the Police Chief. When Carver took over…

Dean shook his head, not wanting to relive the death of his father and the day the little worm took over the station. Suddenly Dean was being brought up under investigation after investigation for his "unusual" techniques when handling cases. Never mind he was effective. Never mind he got the damn job done. Never mind his brother, Sam, who was acting prosecutor in all of the cases, had proved almost each and every criminal guilty.

All but one, of course, and that one was going to haunt Dean for the rest of his life no doubt. That smarmy, limey bastard, Crowley, had walked. That murdering son of a bitch had walked. Never mind they had his second in command, Meg Masters, spill the beans on everything. Never mind they had been able to catch him red-handed at the abandoned hospital full of kidnap victims and women he'd locked into his prostitution ring. Never mind they had seventeen first-hand accounts of men and women who had been forced into doing Crowley's dirty work.

One technicality. One. He hadn't obtained a warrant, and all the evidence had been thrown out. And Crowley, that smarmy, snake-tongued son of a bitch had walked. He was laying low now, of course, but Dean had not given up. He'd get the bastard somehow. He would not stop. Sammy was working round the clock for more evidence, but it had been a year and they hadn't gotten him on so much as a traffic violation.

To make matters worse, Meg had scarpered. She'd left a note under Dean's apartment door and disappeared. For a while Dean thought maybe she'd been killed, but he got one photo of her on the beach in Greece waving and smiling at the camera with some bronzed Adonis on her arm and he knew she'd just decided she'd had enough.

Well fuck her. She was a piece of shit criminal anyway, and Dean didn't need her.

The chiming clock told Dean he was officially late to the class. Cursing under his breath, Dean glanced down at the classroom number printed on his paper and decided to forgo the line of people waiting for the elevator and take the stairs. He hadn't anticipated just how out of breath he'd be once he'd run up the four flights, but he was gasping and red in the face when he finally made it to room four-oh-seven. He threw the door open and gave a casual wave to the teacher, still unable to speak, and threw himself into an open desk near the back.

"…and you'll see things like this your first semester of college, and after a while, they'll stop being so strange."

The class gave a short chuckle and Dean looked up. He still had a few spots in his vision, but they were rapidly clearing as his eyes focused on the professor. He was tall. Not nearly as tall as Dean, or his moose-like brother who stood at six-four, but the teacher's height was impressive.

He was dressed in a black button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and grey slacks. His face was pensive, eyebrows drawn down naturally, the mouth curved into a frown. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he was looking at Dean.

"Sorry," Dean muttered. "Had a bit of trouble with the elevators on the way in."

"Try not to let it happen again," he said.

Dean tried not to roll his eyes. He was being chastised like some irresponsible teen in a room full of very obvious irresponsible could-be teens. Most of the class were women, likely no older than twenty-four with their iPhones, bleached hair and clothes that could barely be considered clothes. He'd seen these girls hanging around his son, Ben, every time he picked the kid up for the weekend. They weren't bad news, they weren't good news. They were just what kids had become today. The boys were just as bad, with Ben in his baggy jeans, over-priced t-shirts with this sideways ball cap and five o'clock shadow.

The class continued without paying Dean any mind. It was conversational French, so it wasn't a bunch of grammar or syntax. It wasn't studying the subtle nuances of the language, and trying to make it make sense in his head. It was there to help him get by when the language barrier made that difficult. It hadn't happened yet, but Carver insisted it would.

Dean was half-convinced that Carver was just trying to get rid of him, force him into inane tasks set to make his head ache so hard he wanted to just quit the department, or transfer. Truth be told, the moment Carver took over Dean had half a mind to do just that. It was at the insistence of Sammy and Detective Novak, first name Gabriel and Sam's quiet lover, that he stay. So he did, but he found himself regretting it more and more. He could put in a transfer to Santa Barbra where his ex, Lisa, and their son Ben were living. At least he'd get to see the kid more than a weekend a month and two weeks in the summer. For now. Ben was going to be eighteen this fall and then… well who the hell knows what then.

Dean barely scraped by the first class, picking up a basic, "Bon jour, je m'appelle Dean," before it was over. A sentence. God he was going to fail this class so hard. He just didn't give a shit.

The drawn-faced professor called to him as he was leaving, however, and Dean had half a mind to tell the guy to go fuck himself, but he didn't. He paused by the door and tried not to stare at the barely concealed asses of these young twenty-somethings as they jiggled them by. Dean glanced up at the professor—he hadn't caught the guy's name yet—and wondered how he functioned being around kids like this.

"Mr… Winchester, is it?"

Dean nodded, listening to the impossibly rough voice. He wondered if perhaps this professor didn't have some sort of throat damage or something. "Look man, I don't have a lot of time, I have to head back to my—"

"It'll only take a moment," he said, beckoning Dean over to the desk. It was obviously for generic use, nothing personal about the work space other than the teacher's briefcase and stack of papers. The class was likely one of those rotating rooms that the college used for all manner of classes. "You obviously don't want to be here, so I have to ask why you are."

Dean couldn't stop his smile. At least the guy had figured it out. "Let's just say my boss is trying to… piss me off."

Head cocked to the side, the teacher looked him up and down. It was the first, but wouldn't be the last time, Dean noticed that this professor's eyes were really, really intense. It almost felt physical, the way they dragged up and down Dean's body, and he felt suddenly exposed. Most people couldn't do that to Dean, but wow this guy…

"Cop," the teacher finally said.

Dean blinked a couple of times before answering. "Close."

"Detective, then," he amended. "Some sort of… international relations requirement?"

Dean licked his lips and took a step back. Now he felt really exposed and he didn't like it. "Uh well… you could say that."

The teacher's mouth quirked, and then, suddenly surprising Dean, he laughed. "I've had quite a few of you in my classes over the years."

Dean noticed that this teacher, despite his rather youthful face, did show signs of his age. A smattering of grey hair amongst the black, crow's feet at the eyes, hands showing age more than anywhere else on his body.

"I see. I'm a stereo-type."

"More like showing obvious signs of being coerced into this class against your will and better judgment." He paused and added, "I know what it's like having to sit in a class full of people who could be your biological children and listening to them talk about last year's prom."

Dean gave a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look man, I'll try to pay better attention next time, I just had a rough morning."

"I understand." He gathered up his things and then looked up at Dean, the smallest smile playing around his mouth. "You can call me Castiel, I'm not big on the whole call me Professor Whatever."

"Yeah okay, and you can call me Dean. I'd actually rather these people not find out I'm a detective."

"Fair enough. Good to meet you, Dean."

"Yeah," Dean said and he started backing away toward the door. "Good to meet you too, Cas."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean's face was red-hot as he sat in his car, the phone pressed to his ear. The shrill voice of his ex was grating on his nerves as she continued to berate him for Ben's last visit.

"…and he said you didn't get home until 2 AM, Dean. Two AM. I'm not even going to get into Saturday when the hooker you paraded through the kitchen…"

"Whoa hold on," Dean snapped. The hooker, Lisa was referring to, was actually one of his undercover partners, Anna, who had been on a sting and had been shot making her get-away. She had been right around the corner from Dean's and stopped in for a couple of bandages before she headed to the hospital. Anna was OCD about her car, just like Dean was, and she was freaking out about blood on the seats. "That hooker is actually my partner, Anna, and I explained everything to Ben."

"Look, you want to lie to your kid about what you do on your weekends, Dean, but don't for a second forget that I was with you. I know what you did in your free time," she spat.

Dean rolled his eyes so hard his head followed, and he pressed his forehead to his Impala's window. "Jesus Christ," he groaned.

"Oh taking the lord's name in vain, great role model," she snapped.

Now she was grasping at straws, and Dean knew it. She was trying to piss him off, meaning she was emotionally compromised and she was trying to take it out on him. They hadn't been together long, but in the years they'd shared custody, Dean got to know her really well. "What did he do?"

Lisa's rant dropped off instantly. "You know what—"

"Save it," Dean said, tired from the long day. "What did he do?"

There was a pregnant pause before she finally said, "His girlfriend had a pregnancy scare."

Dean's face went hot again. "Jesus H. Just a scare, right?"

"Yeah," Lisa said. "But let me tell you, I did not appreciate her father waking up the entire house at 2 AM when he found out about it. They've been forbidden from seeing each other, obviously, but that's not going to hold much water with Ben." She paused and then added, "He's too much like you."

"Yeah, except I wasn't seventeen when I knocked you up, and you said you were on the pill."

"I was on the pill," she said, her teeth clenched together. "I just can't believe after everything Ben's been through, everything he's seen us go through, he'd be that irresponsible."

"Oh relax," Dean said, though in reality he was so pissed at his kid he could spit fire. "He's seventeen, Lisa. You know what boys want to do when they're seventeen? They want to fuck. They want to smoke weed and they want to fuck, and whether we like it or not, he's going to do it."

"So you think he just should get away with it?" she asked, her voice rising.

"Jesus, no," Dean spat. "I hope to god you at least grounded him until the day he turns eighteen. But I'm saying it's probably a good idea that we put the fear of god in him. That boy does not want the responsibility of being a dad."

"Yeah, that runs in the family."

"Oh hell no, Lisa, do not go there with me when you were the one who chose to keep him from me until he was freaking seven," Dean began, his voice rising.

Lisa knew she's crossed a line, because she backed up almost instantly. "Sorry," she said, which was a word Dean didn't from her often when it didn't include, you in front of it, and piece of shit after. "Look, will you just talk to him? I had half a mind to cancel his trip to see you this weekend, but as long as you stick to his punishment…"

"Yeah, believe me, I want a few words with that kid," Dean said.

"And no secret trips to theme parks with your brother and Gabriel," Lisa warned. "I know how Sam gets when he's around Ben, and he needs to respect the fact that Ben's being punished."

Dean sighed, but knew Lisa's warning wasn't unwarranted. Sam and Gabe had a terrible habit of ignoring all rules and regulations when it came to their nephew, even going so far as to sneak Ben out once or twice to take him to a concert or the Great America theme park in San Jose.

"Yeah, I'll talk to him. I have to work on a couple things with Gabe this afternoon anyway. I'll make it clear."

"You'd better," Lisa warned, "because I'm not putting up with this shitty, I've been spoiled by Sam attitude if he ignores me."

"Yeah yeah, I'll take care of it," Dean said, and without so much as a good by, which was their usual, Dean hung up. He threw his phone into the pocket of his laptop case and slammed the Impala door. It was the mid-morning shift change, so there were a higher number of uniformed officers milling about than there usually was during the day.

Dean had to elbow and growl his way to the coffee pot, and once he was sated, he went to his desk where Gabe was leaning up against the side. "'Sup, bro?"

Dean gave Gabriel a tired nod, really not in the mood for his brother-in-law's antics at the present time. "It's been a long morning."

"Uh, it's like 2 PM man," Gabe said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Like I said, long morning. You and Sam going to be around tonight? I've got Ben coming in this weekend and I have to talk to you both."

Gabriel frowned but gave a shrug. "I don't know. He's going to be at some benefit until the evening at least."

Dean flopped into his chair and turned on his computer, momentarily ignoring the stack of files on his desk. "Benefit? Another one of those Prop 8 things again?"

"Things?" Gabriel said, his voice rising a little. "This isn't just some thing, Dean. This thing revoked our marriage and…"

Dean threw up his hands. "Whoa man, I was there, remember? Stood as best man, hugs and kisses all around. Jesus, calm down."

Gabriel swallowed. "It's just sensitive right now, what with the Supreme Court hearing and all."

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm distracted. I just got off the phone with Lisa and…" Dean trailed off, shaking his head. "You know, that kid is going to give me a heart attack one day."

Gabe settled into the chair on the side of Dean's desk and picked up the first case file. "What did he do now? Steal a car?"

"Almost got his girl pregnant," Dean muttered.

Gabe's eyes widened and he leaned forward. "You're shitting me."

Dean groaned, rubbing his hands down his face, and he shook his head. "Nope. I guess the girl's dad showed up at Lisa's at two in the morning screaming his head off about the whole incident. Either way, it was a near miss, but Ben is in the shit. None of your antics this weekend, okay? You or Sammy."

Gabe held up three fingers and nodded. "Scout's honor, boss."

Dean quirked an eyebrow. "I uh… I think three fingers is the girl scouts."

Gabe looked at his hand and shrugged. "Fitting." Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed a king size snickers and tore the wrapper. He tossed the case file at Dean, leaned back with his mouth full and said, "Well, let's get to work."

Despite trying to piece together the recent string of homicides with some connection to each other, Dean was more focused on his new French lessons. It wasn't the lessons themselves, either, but the teacher. He was starting to get it—sort of—and despite the fact that this Castiel guy was a little awkward and oddly formal at times, he had a way of presenting the information that stuck.

Dean found himself enjoying the way Castiel's face shifted slightly when he was speaking French, and how he seemed more at ease with it. He also found out that Castiel's last name was Novak, and despite having almost zero resemblance to Gabriel, his curiosity took over at the end of Thursday's class, which was his last class of the week.

He hung back, taking his time with his notebook as the rest of the students filtered out. After a few minutes Castiel said, "Is there something I can help you with, Dean?"

Dean turned and gave him his charming 'Cop' smile. "I just uh, just noticed your last name is Novak?"

"It is."

"Would you happen to be related to a Gabriel Novak?"

Castiel's face twitched. Like he was scared. He hesitated and then said, "He's my brother. Do you know him well?"

Dean's eyebrows rose up into his hairline. "Really? Gabe is your brother? Like near-diabetic, way-too-hyper, midget-sized Gabe?"

Castiel's face broke into a smile and he let out the smallest laugh. "Uh yes, he is. We haven't talked in years, though."

Dean frowned. "How long have you been here in Frisco?"

"About six months," Castiel said with a shrug. "I had been teaching in Paris for a few years."

"Damn, Cas," Dean said, "this is a weird coincidence. He's one of my partners on the force."

The corner of Castiel's mouth twitched. "I had no idea he'd become a detective. Or that he was living here, in fact. We haven't spoken in years." Both of them had gathered their stuff and Castiel hesitated before saying, "If you don't have to rush off, I was about to walk across the street and get a cup of coffee."

It took Dean a second to realize Castiel was asking him to go along. He did have to be back, but right now he felt like Carver could go fuck himself. His caseload would be there when he got back. "Yeah that sounds really good right now."

Throwing his laptop bag over his shoulder, Dean followed Cas out of the classroom and waited patiently as he locked up. The elevators were clear of waiting students, so they took it down in silence, Dean feeling the awkwardness between them, and still reeling that this man was the brother of his partner. Not just his partner, but his brother-in-law. He had to wonder if Cas knew that much.

The walk to the café was just across the street, a quaint little French set-up with wrought-iron tables outside. Dean ordered a double cappuccino and waited at a table along the corner of the café where they could have some privacy. Castiel returned shortly after with a large sandwich and a large iced tea.

"Sorry, I just haven't eaten yet." He broke half and shoved it in front of Dean without asking. "It's good, trust me," Cas pressed.

Dean, who wasn't in the habit of taking food from strangers considering how many people disliked him in the city, took a bite anyway. And damn if that French teacher wasn't right. It was delicious. Lettuce, turkey, avocado and bacon.

Castiel chuckled at Dean's yummy noises and swallowed his own first bite. "Mine are better, but these are close second."

"You cook?" Dean asked with some surprise. Yet another thing Gabe did not do, though his chocolate chip cookies were to die for. But that was about as culinary as the short man ever got.

"Mmm yes, I do," Cas said, swallowing his bite down with the tea. "I was a chef for years."

"So uh, how long has it been? You know, since you and your brother talked?"

Cas flinched a little but let out a small sigh. "I believe the last time he and I conversed more than a few words was… '97?"

"Oh shit," Dean said, and coughed out an apology for his language. "Sorry. That's just… it's a long time."

"My relationship with my family has always been tense and complicated."

"Do you know that he's uh…" Dean hesitated, "… gay?"

Castiel surprised Dean by laughing robustly. "Oh yes. Yes I believe Gabriel came out of his proverbial closet around four and a half."

Dean let out a breath. He wasn't really the kind of guy who wanted to out his brother-in-law to his estrange family member. "He's married to my brother."

Castiel's sandwich-filled hand froze on the way to his mouth. "Married?"

"Yeah. They were one of the couples who got to tie the knot before that whole Prop 8 bullshit went down. He's a good guy, I'm sorry you don't get along. It's not the uh… gay thing, is it?" Dean held his breath and prayed to any listening deity that it wasn't a gay issue. Not only did Dean swing that way from time, but he was starting to develop a little crush on this man. Just a tiny one.

"Oh lord no," Cas said, shaking his head. "No, I think half my siblings, myself included, are of that particular… persuasion, if you will. Unfortunately for me, my path lay elsewhere than in law, and my family decided if I was going to make those choices, I would do so on my own."

Dean frowned. He had a hard time thinking of Gabriel as the type to shut out his brother because he wanted to be a cook or teacher or whatever. Gabe might have been a cop, and a good one, but he was also a rebel in his own rights. He didn't like to follow the rules, and his catch phrase was just desserts when he'd been caught delivering a little too much self-imposed justice on criminals. He'd been investigated more than once and Dean had to bail him out more times than he could count.

"I'd prefer if you didn't mention to my brother that we've met, or that I'm in town," Castiel said. "I suppose if our friendship persists, he'll have to know, but for the moment I'd like my space."

Dean nodded. "Yeah sure thing, Cas. I'm not going to meddle in someone else's family affairs. I've got enough shit going on in my own."

"Need to vent?" Cas asked with a small, friendly smile.

Dean wanted to say no, I mean, it really was none of this dude's business, but he found himself taking a deep breath and spilling the entire story about Lisa, Ben, and the current situation. "You know, I mean I love that kid more than life itself, and I'd do anything for him, but when that bitch is breathing down my neck like this I wonder what it would have been like if I'd just stayed in Florida. You know? I could have ignored Sammy and just kept my ass right where I was." Dean shook his head and felt terrible. "I'm a total dick for saying that, too, you know. I mean, believe me, I know I'm a piece of shit father."

"You do that a lot, don't you?"

Dean looked up. "Do what?"

"That wallowing in self-deprecating hatred. I think it makes you feel better about things you have no control over. Sure you could have checked in with her after sleeping with her, but as you said, she said she was using birth control methods. And a man such as yourself, checking in with every woman you'd ever slept with—"

"Whoa hey now, what are you saying, buddy?" Dean asked defensively.

Castiel's grin widened. "Am I wrong?"

Dean wanted to yell and defend himself, but the smile on Castiel's face paralyzed him and after a second, he laughed. "No. You're not wrong."

"It's textbook psychology 101. It's a cycle. It's probably why you haven't had a successful relationship in years."

"Oh great, a psych major."

"Culinary major, French minor," Cas said. He'd finished his sandwich and the tea was running low. "I have an afternoon class at the east campus, so I need to go. But this was nice, Dean. Thank you."

"Yeah, thanks for the sandwich. Maybe we can do it again," Dean said. He kept his voice casual, letting Cas take the request any way he wanted.

The teacher smiled and reached into his bag, pulling out a small business card and scribbled his number on it. "I'm a really good cook and I'm free next Wednesday. Dinner at my place?"

Dean took the card and shoved it into his pocket. "Wouldn't miss it. Thanks again." He sat at the table, watching Castiel make his way across the street to the parking garage. When the teacher had disappeared, Dean finally rose and smiled. So Lisa had been a bitch, and this weekend with Ben was sure to be shit. But he had a date on Wednesday and he was pretty sure nothing could bring his mood down.


	3. Chapter 3

"And you swear you're not going to be working all weekend, and you'll be watching him?"

Dean tried not to roll his eyes as his ex, Lisa, stood in front of him, her hand on her slender hip. She looked more tan than usual, a symptom of her most recent vacation with her wealthy boyfriend, and Dean found himself just the slightest bit jealous. Not of her dating; Dean and Lisa were just never able to get along long enough to make anything work, but the fact was, she was able to move on. Despite her own stressful job, being a single mom, and being tied to Dean for the rest of her life, she'd moved on.

Maybe there was something to what Castiel had said about Dean not being able to hold a relationship down for very long. He was too much of a self-deprecating asshole. "Yeah, yeah I promise. Jesus," Dean muttered. Ben was already sitting in the front seat of the Impala, looking sullen, likely knowing the impending lecture on its way.

He took Ben's bag from Lisa and tipped her a wave as he walked down the pavement to the car. Dropping the bag into the Impala's back seat, Dean slid behind the wheel, took a moment to appreciate just how much he loved driving that damn car, and then started up the engine.

They had a five hour drive ahead of them, but it didn't matter. Dean needed to talk to his kid, and frankly, he enjoyed the drive. He gunned it a few times before putting the car in drive, and ignored Lisa's scowling face in his rear-view mirror as he peeled out, taking the corner at breakneck speed. As a cop, he rarely indulged his need to drive recklessly, but sometimes, when he was off duty, and with his son who loved it, he gave in.

"I'm gonna need some grub before we head out of town. The Grille okay?" It was his and Ben's spot, the place they always ate when Dean came to see him. It was the place Dean told the kid that yeah, he was his dad, and yeah he hadn't been around for the first seven years, but he'd be doing everything he could to make up for it.

The little diner overlooked the water, the raised patio covered in plastic tables with worn umbrellas. It didn't quite match the Santa Barbara, luxury air, but the locals loved it and there was always a wait. Ben, who was usually more chatty, gave a simple, sullen nod and stayed quiet until Dean pulled into the parking lot.

The lunch rush was just beginning, so they were able to grab an outside table right away, and the server, who had been waiting on the boys for a decade now, smiled at them. "The usual?" she asked.

"You know me, sweetheart," Ben said in an almost sarcastic tone.

Dean glared at his boy but said, "Same, thanks. How are things?"

"Oh the usual. Busy, hired a couple of college kids so you know how that goes." She gave a laugh, the crow's feet at her eyes made Dean painfully aware of his own, and how long they'd been coming here. "I'll be back with your drinks."

"You wanna tell me why you're being rude to Jane?" Dean asked, folding his hands on top of the table. "She's not the one who nearly knocked up some fifteen year old girl."

Ben's cheeks pinked and he crossed his arms, sitting back and not meeting his father's eyes. "I knew you were going to get all parenty on me the moment my mom called you."

"Parenty?" Dean asked, his eyebrow raising. "What the hell does that even mean?"

"You know what," Ben said, but fell silent when Judy dropped off two tall iced teas. She seemed to sense it was an awkward moment because she hurried off with just a sympathetic smile toward Dean. "You act like my best friend, rules be damned until my mom gets on your case. Then it's suddenly father of the year, Dean, showing his punk kid who's boss."

Dean took a deep breath, schooling his anger and reminding himself he was exactly like this at seventeen. Only his father drilled him like a military recruit and Dean was not going to put his boy through that. Fear did not equal respect, something he'd learned the hard way. "Look, I know you're pissed off, okay. You're a good kid and I'm not saying that having sex is you know, a sin or whatever. But goddamn, Ben, do you really want to take on the responsibility of raising a kid this young? You have no idea—"

"Spare me the lecture, dad, okay," Ben snapped. "Mom already made it pretty damn clear what a mistake you think I am."

Dean's face went red and he sat back. "Excuse me, but I have never, and I mean never, called you a mistake."

"You didn't have to," Ben said. "I think the whole, look at how hard having some kid was on me kind of gets the point across."

"That is not what I'm saying. Ben, when I turned up on your mom's door asking for a favor and there you were, it was probably the most shocking moment of my life. And yeah, it took some adjustment, and yeah I'm still pretty pissed at your mom for not calling me, but the only thing I regret is not being there from the start. I didn't realize you needed me to say you're not a mistake, kid. Being a father is a pain in the ass, but so is everything else in life. But there's no reason to take on that much pain in the ass at seventeen. I know you're better than that."

Ben finally looked up at Dean, relief flooding his face, but Ben was too much like his dad for anything "chick-flick" so he took a drink of his tea and said, "Yeah, I mean, Megan's already kind of a bitch, I don't know how I'd deal with her pregnant."

It took Dean some time to recover from his anger that Lisa made Ben think Dean thought parenting was a mistake, but once he did, he delivered his proper dad lecture and produced the terms of the punishment. No outings with Sam and Gabe, no xbox, no arcade, and no porn. As put out about it as he was, Ben accepted the punishment and eventually fell into his routine of telling Dean about the weeks his dad had missed.

"So what's new with you?" Ben asked as they entered the city. "You seeing anyone yet?"

Dean hesitated. There was a prospect, yes, and Ben had seen Dean date both men and women growing up, so that never bothered him. But Dean didn't want to jinx it. Sure, he didn't know Cas very well, but he liked the guy and he'd be damned if he screwed it up before it even started.

"I don't know. We'll see," Dean finally answered.

Ben smirked knowingly, and Dean simply told him to shut up as they finally pulled in front of Dean's place. He skid the car to a halt in the garage and cut the engine, letting the fumes drift out before shutting the door and heading up the stairs.

Dean always liked his little place, as small as it was, and as often as it smelled like Vietnamese food from his neighbors. He'd been there for almost six years now, buying right when the market had hit a sweet spot, and after a couple of fantastic bonuses, he'd nearly paid the entire thing off. Ben's room was to the right of the kitchen and Dean's to the left. He went into his room to change into work-out pants while Ben got settled, and after a bit, he ordered a pizza and the lounged in front of the tv.

"Are Uncle Sammy and Gabe coming by at all?" Ben asked. Ben was really close to his uncles, and as much as he knew he wouldn't get away with much this weekend, he wanted to see them.

"Yeah. They've got some Prop 8 benefit thing tonight, but they should be over tomorrow. I was thinking about heading down to the beach for a run in the morning, and then maybe we can barbeque."

"Sounds good," Ben said. "I promised my coach I'd get at least five miles in this weekend. We have a meet in two weeks down in San Diego."

Dean had almost forgotten that Ben was running track, and he made a mental note to take that day off to go watch his son. He'd missed a lot in Ben's extracurricular career, but he showed up when he could.

The rest of the afternoon passed, and just after dinner, Dean's sweet tooth kicked up into full gear and he dragged his son out for Gelato. "I'm not leaving you in the apartment this weekend unless I have to," Dean said.

"Like I'm gonna burn the place down," Ben complained, but let his dad drag him down to the car.

Dean's favorite spot was near the college campus, a small, family-run shop which Dean was sure was San Francisco's best kept secret when it came to frozen desserts. It was somewhat crowded in the shop, and when Dean and Ben entered, they were immediately accosted by Dean's giant brother and his impressively short, sweets-addicted husband.

"Holy cow man, have you grown a foot?" Gabe asked as he threw his arm around his nephew.

Ben smiled and shook his head. "Four inches."

"Looks like someone's all alone in his short little world," Sam said, putting his arm around Ben and hugging him. "So aside from putting your dick where it doesn't belong, how are you?"

Ben's face flared red and he glared at Dean. "Jesus, send out a mass text or something? And I'm fine. You buying?"

Sam was, and he treated everyone to Gelato. The place was getting busier, so Dean took his chocolate hazelnut treat outside to try and find a table, and as he stepped around the corner, he smacked straight into Castiel. The side of his dark chocolate gelato smeared right down the front of Castiel's light tan trench coat, and Dean stepped back, horrified.

"Oh shit. I am so sorry," he gasped. "Oh god, that's going to stain."

Castiel smiled and gave a shrug. "This thing is so old. I think this was the sign I was looking for to dump it." He took Dean's offered napkin, but wiping it only made the stain worse, so eventually he shrugged it off and stood there in his tight, black sweater. "Fancy meeting you here. You come to this place often?"

"It's my favorite," Dean said, licking a bit of the melted gelato off the back of his hand. "I've got my kid for the weekend so we decided to pop by. He's inside with uh…" Dean turned, remembering the awkwardness between Gabe and his brother, and just before he could warn Castiel, Gabe and Sam strolled out. "…uh, shit."

Dean's head whipped back to Castiel who had frozen in place, his eyes locked on his estranged brother. Dean looked back at Gabe, who had frozen next to Sam, with Ben standing right behind them.

"Uh, what's the hold up?" Ben chirped.

"Castiel," Gabriel said after a moment, his voice oddly high at the end. "What uh… what are you doing here?"

Castiel swallowed thickly and then said, his voice even gruffer than usual, "I'm living here. Teaching at the college."

Gabe nodded and took a step away from Sam. "So you didn't um… didn't call, or anything? You know, because I left you my number when I moved like, oh…" he shook his shoulders up and down a few times, "seven, eighteen times, maybe?"

Castiel's cheeks pinked. "Forgive me if it didn't occur to me, as your parting words to me were, go fuck yourself. And then, if I recall correctly, you punched me twice, cracking my cheek bone and knocking out a tooth." Cas turned to Dean and said, "I'm sorry, I just forgot I'm late for something. I'll see you around."

Speechless, Dean stood by as Cas turned on his heel and marched off, his stained coat draped across his arm. No one moved for several moments, until Sam finally broke the silence and said, "Um, Gabe, what the hell was that?"

Gabe ignored his husband and turned to Dean. "Do you know him?"

"Yeah, he's my French teacher," Dean said with a shrug. "That class Carver's making me take."

"And you didn't think to tell me about it?" Gabe's voice was tight, accusing and angry.

Dean threw up his hands. "Woah calm your tits there, pal. How the hell was I supposed to know you had some brother who taught French? And you knocked him in the face? For what?"

But Gabe didn't answer. His small cup of gelato hit the side of the trash can, sliding to the ground, and he was gone. Sam hesitated, not sure whether to stay with Dean and Ben or chase after his husband.

"Oh go," Dean said, giving his brother a shove. "Come over tomorrow, and tell him to pull his head out of his ass. Not everything is a personal attack."

Sam pulled his trademark bitch-face but turned and hurried after his angry husband. Ben let out a sigh and then laughed. "Well that was awkward."

"Ya think?" Dean hooked his foot around the leg of a chair and yanked it out for Ben, taking the one across from his son. "I'm telling you, be thankful you don't have siblings. They're nothing but trouble."

Ben rolled his eyes. "You love Uncle Sammy, don't even pretend you'd be happier without him."

That was true. Absolutely true, and Dean couldn't deny it. Instead he said, "Shut up and eat your ice cream," and fell silent again, his mind drifting off to the pensive teacher and wondering what the hell could have been so bad Gabriel had gotten violent.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes**: So I have a pretty decent idea of where this is going, but it might take a while, so I hope you all don't mind the long ride :) If there's anything you want to see me include, please feel free to drop me a comment or msg and let me know. I'm not opposed to suggestions!

**Chapter 4**

Something about the chilly San Francisco morning was soothing to Dean as he and Ben stepped out of the car. They'd found a decent parking spot near their favorite run along the side of the bay, and were just doing a few warm ups, waiting for Sam.

Dean was not surprised to see his brother alone that morning; it was rare when Gabriel joined them for runs, and after the night before, Dean wasn't sure he'd be seeing his brother-in-law until work on Monday. Sam cast his brother and nephew a tense smile as he strapped his iPod to his arm band and hopped up and down on the balls of his feet.

"So… we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?" Dean questioned. "Or is this something we're going to tiptoe around until the three of us get drunk together and Gabe starts losing his shit?"

Sam sighed, running his hand back through his hair. "You know, I didn't even know he had another brother. I mean, his family is so damn huge it's hard to keep track, but in the years we've been together, he never once mentioned that guy." Sam was clearly hurt, but he was keeping it to himself.

Dean sighed and stretched his arms back and forth in front of his body. "Look man, I didn't mean to keep that shit from him, you know that. I didn't even realize they were related until Thursday."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Sam asked. His voice was tense, but free of accusation.

"Cas asked me not to," Dean replied honestly. "He said he had some beef with his brothers, didn't get real specific or anything. I mean, I just met the guy, but who am I to out him, you know?"

Sam gave a nod and then looked over at Ben who was listening to his iPod at an ear-piercing level. Ben gave Sam a thumbs up and then took off ahead of the two older men. Dean shook his head as he and his brother took off after his son, but gave the boy the distance he wanted.

"So you talk to Ben about his little sexcapades?"

Dean chuckled and shrugged. "A little, but man you remember what that shit was like. I mean, even you fucked women in college."

Sam gave a half-hearted shrug. "Yeah but I think the very idea of kids terrified me so badly I double-wrapped."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I can't get down on him too hard, you know. I mean, yeah, Lisa and I were careful, but we weren't that careful. He thinks he's invincible. I think I'd be more pissed if he wasn't such a good kid."

"Yeah," Sam said and elbowed his brother a little. "Good thing he takes after me more than you."

Dean rolled his eyes but picked up his pace a little. The wet, foggy morning felt good against his skin, waking him up like no caffeine ever could. His muscles began to unwind and the run became easier. They passed familiar faces, and nodded hellos as they trotted by. The breeze coming off the water smelled good, familiar, like home, and despite all the drama, Dean felt pretty good right then.

"So he tell you anything about Castiel?" Dean finally asked. He didn't know much about the guy he had a date with, and his curiosity was getting the best of him, especially now that he knew his potential date was related to his brother in law.

Sam's face tightened and he said, "Not much. He said Castiel was always kind of the outcast, nothing like the brothers. Got picked on a lot, bullied. Always doing exactly what his parents told him not to do. Ended up running away when he was seventeen, then came back but when his dad tried to force him to go into the academy, he bolted. Gabe was pretty pissed about it. He'd always stuck up for his brother, you know, trying to play peacemaker."

"Gabe, peacemaker?" Dean asked with raised eyebrows.

Sam laughed. "Yeah well, I guess it's different with siblings. Blood siblings," he amended before Dean could call all of Gabe's antics with him to Sam's attention. "Either way, he felt pretty betrayed when Castiel decided to take off to Europe."

Dean hummed a little, trying to picture Castiel as a mouthy rebel. The guy was quiet, formal and way too polite for that image. "Well hopefully they can work their shit out."

Sam glanced at Dean a few times and then a huge grin broke out over his face. "You like him."

"Shut up," Dean said, rolling his eyes.

"No! You do. Oh my god, do you have a date with him?"

Dean felt his face heat up and he suppressed the urge to punch his brother in the face. "Look man, I don't know what we have. We went out for coffee after class one day and he offered to cook me dinner. That's it. And you know what, if Gabe wants me to cancel, I will."

"Oh no. No you're not using him to get out of a date, Dean," Sam said firmly. "I don't care what petty issues my husband has with his siblings, you haven't been laid in like five years."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "It's been eight months, Sammy, not five years."

"Eight months is five years in gay-time, Dean. You need this."

"Jerk," Dean muttered.

Sam grinned. "Bitch."

The moment Sam and Gabe arrived at Dean's, he headed straight out to the store to stock up on their BBQ must-haves. Sam, of course, was in charge of the food, and had brought plenty, and Dean was sent out for beer and dessert, a very specific list compiled by Gabe with the promise of forgiveness if Dean delivered.

His first stop was a tiny, French bakery which Gabe had found online with rave reviews. He'd ordered a huge box of pains au chocolat and a dozen eclairs through the online ordering system. The shop was near downtown, tucked away behind a bank building, well off the main road and hard to find.

Dean was a little irritated that the spot was so hidden, especially for a business that would likely do better if it relied on foot traffic. However, when he pulled the door open and the familiar face behind the counter greeted him, it made sense why the owner was trying to keep a low profile.

"I swear this is getting ridiculous," Dean said to Castiel who was standing in a black apron covered in flour.

"I had a feeling the name Sam Winchester was somehow related to you," Cas replied.

Dean chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah well uh, it was your brother actually, who ordered."

"Likely he knew it was my shop and was trying to avoid alerting me to his order. I should have guessed, based on the amount of sweets."

"He was always like that, then?" Dean asked. He approached the glass counter and looked down at the intricate pastries put together just so in the case.

"Ah yes, since I can remember," Cas said.

"You make all these?" Dean had barely heard Castiel's answer, captivated by the tiny tarts with chocolate leaves that looked so detailed they could have been plucked right from a tree.

"I did. It's soothing," Cas said. He reached into the cabinet and pulled one out, offering it to Dean. "Go ahead," when the detective hesitated. "Trust me, you'll like it." Dean hesitated again and Castiel rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to go broke over one small tart."

Dean took a shuffling step forward, but obviously tired of his antics, Castiel reached across the counter, grabbing Dean by the front of his shirt and yanked him forward. Dean's mouth dropped open in surprise and Cas took the opportunity to shove the tart inside, using his hand to push up on the bottom of Dean's jaw to ensure Dean started to chew.

Spluttering, Dean took a step back and looked at a smirking Castiel with wide eyes. He wanted to be mad, he really did, but fuck the pastry was so good. It nearly brought tears to his eyes, the way the French teacher had seemed to marry together crust, custard, the tart and sweet, with the hint of chocolate from the decorative leaf. The fruits meticulously sliced on the top were just ripe enough, and yeah, it was the best thing he'd ever had in his mouth.

Cas licked a bit of custard from the tart off his finger and then wiped his hands on his towel, giving a smile and a shrug as if to say, "I told you so."

Dean felt a slight tightness in his jeans and he shifted to try and hide it as he watched Castiel's tongue dart out and lick up the custard. His throat cleared as he swallowed the last of the bite. "That um… that was good."

Castiel's smile widened and he ducked behind the counter, producing two very large, very pink boxes. "These are yours, I believe."

Dean huffed a half-laugh and pulled the boxes down. "Yeah, thanks. We're having a barbeque. Something we always do when Ben's around. I'd invite you, and honestly I think once Gabe tastes your pastries he'd be all ready to let bygones be bygones, but I have a feeling you might not be um…interested."

"You'd be right on that count," Cas said, the mirth draining from his face. "It's no offense, I do enjoy your company, Dean, I'm just not quite ready to make friendly with my brother again."

Dean gave an understanding nod. "Look I get it. And honestly I don't really know much of the history except the bits and pieces Sammy got last night. But the truth is, I like your brother. He's a great partner, he always has my back, and I mean always, and he makes my brother happy."

Cas nodded and took a step back. "I appreciate the sentiment."

Dean turned to leave, but hesitated for just a moment. "We still on for Wednesday?"

Castiel grinned in earnest this time, and he nodded. "Absolutely." Dean turned to leave, but Cas called out after him just as his hand hit the door, "I know you think my brother has your back, but be careful. In my experience, he's less loyal and more a master of illusions."

Dean swallowed thickly but decided not to say anything to that. He knew Cas had been hurt by his brother, and he knew that Gabe could be a huge pain in the ass. But Gabe had always been there for Dean. In the worst situations, when Dean was under investigation and his job was one the line, Gabe had rallied the entire department to vouch for him. There was no way it was a trick. Gabe might not be the nicest guy, but he was his brother, and that meant something.

Dean was half gone, sitting on his little balcony that overlooked a park. The grill had cooled, but the air was still filled with the pungent smell of charcoal, and he was pretty sure his hair and shirt were soaked with the scent, too. He was half way in to the third six pack of beer he'd picked up, and over full with the pastries that he had yet to tell his brother in law had come from Castiel.

Gabe was tense until he'd had a few drinks and several of the treats, and now had seemed to have forgotten all about his estranged brother. Sam was inside at the moment, playing a game of Kinect Sports with Ben, who was beating him savagely. Dean was enjoying hearing their laughter, and had that moment of morose wondering at what it would have been like if he'd had Ben all the time growing up.

He barely reacted to the sound of the door sliding to the side, and nodded to Gabe who dropped into a chair next to him. "I was inches away from beating your face in last night, you know."

Dean laughed a little, his head light from the alcohol. "Yeah well, you would have gotten one or two good punches in before I pinned your ass to the ground."

Gabe smiled and shook his head. "Oh I'll let you keep your little fantasy of grandeur."

"You know where those pastries came from, right?" Dean asked as they stared off at the mottled orange of the setting sun. He didn't really want to approach the topic, but he also didn't want to keep his brother in law in the dark.

Gabe sighed and leaned his head back against the back of the chair. "Yeah. Yeah I do. I knew it I opened that pompous, over-graphic'd website of his. But I grew up with that little pastry protégé and I couldn't resist."

"Dude, he made me eat this freaking tart that was like… I swear to god the best thing I have ever tasted. Like literally ever," Dean said, his mouth watering at the memory. And also a little at the memory of Castiel's tongue.

"Oh you're preaching to the choir, bro. You really are."

Dean took a deep breath and leaned forward, his forearms resting across his thighs. He let his head hang to the side, staring at Gabe who was staring up at the sky. He didn't see a family resemblance at all, really. Gabe was so short, and he had this puckered little mouth, pointed nose, beady eyes and sandy blonde hair he wore almost as long as Sammy's.

Castiel was the polar opposite, and definitely more of Dean's type. Just an inch or so shorter than Dean, a broader body, round face, dark hair clipped short and neat. His eyes were fiercely blue and though he kept them squinted most of the time, when he was surprised they went wide and so bright.

Dean looked at Gabe again, who looked sad and contemplative. He looked similar to their older brother, Balthazar. He was a half brother, growing up with his mother in the UK, but he'd been to visit Sam and Gabe a few times, attending their wedding. Now he was a real ass, rude and boorish, but he had a certain charm about him, and Dean wasn't remotely surprised when the older Novak left the wedding with no less than four women in his car.

But Castiel… no, he wasn't like any of them. He was different. Everything about him was different.

"Sam told me you have a date with him," Gabe said, his voice cutting into Dean's thoughts.

Dean's cheeks pinked. "Look man, I made that date before I even knew what was up, okay?"

Gabe laughed and shook his head. "It's fine. I mean, it might get awkward after a while if you two get serious but, well, knowing my brother, he'll piss off long before that happens."

That stung, and Dean crossed his arms defensively. "Maybe you're not giving him enough credit."

Gabriel laughed again and sat up. "It's nothing personal, Dean-o, and you know it. I love the shit out of you, and I just don't want to see you get hurt. That's just Cassie's MO, you know. He leaves. He doesn't like the idea of permanence, of conforming to anything, whether it's life, or a job, or a fucking boyfriend. I'm just telling you to be prepared because I've seen it before, and you're the last person I want to be mopping up when he chews you up an spits you out."

With that, Gabe rose, gave Dean a pat on the shoulder and went inside. He was still stinging and he was terrified now. He'd been through enough, with fantastically failed relationships, with Lisa, and his shit ability to be a father.

Hell, he was still reeling after his longest relationship—which had reached six months until Dean caught him working a prostitution ring, and fuck had that stung—and that was two years ago. His name was Benny, a tall, beefy Cajun dude with an accent to die for and this puppy-smile that had made Dean go weak in the knees.

He hadn't wanted to believe that he was guilty, either. Sammy, however, had tried the case and with the evidence he had, Dean couldn't hold on to that hopeless, helpless belief that he wasn't doomed to have everything fall apart. Benny had gone down, and Dean had spent three months drowning in whiskey.

The idea that he might feel that pain again, if Gabe was right and Castiel would just take off and leave him the moment it got serious, made him think twice. The dude was cute, and sweet, and god Dean just wanted to rip that apron off him and fuck him right there against that pastry counter. But he wasn't sure he could take that risk. He wasn't sure if he could put himself together one more time after some relationship tore him to shreds like the mythical hellhounds. He just wasn't sure he was strong enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes**: Okay I know the relationship with Cas and Dean is slow moving but I want it to be somewhat realistic. Plus it's got a plot to it, so I have to balance? And stuff? But yeah this chapter is longer, and you know I'll probably update tomorrow (despite the fact that I should be working because my inbox is so omfgfull).

**Chapter 5**

It was officially Sunday morning when he got the call. The emergency line he kept at all times was a shrill, piercing ring that could potentially wake the dead. When it went off, and it had only gone off twice—once when Ben had appendicitis and once when Sam had collapsed due to pneumonia he hadn't treated—Dean was up instantly.

The phone was kept fully charged in a drawer by the bed. His hand grasped the handle and pulled so hard, the drawer came out and the contents spilled onto the floor. Fumbling through the dark, Dean located the blinking light, picked it up and answered.

"Hello? What's wrong?"

"Is this a Mr. Dean Winchester?" The voice was male, calm, professional. A doctor, Dean reasoned right away. "I've been given this as an emergency contact for one Lisa Braden."

"I uh… yes yeah, I'm Dean. What's wrong, what happened?"

"Mr. Winchester, I'm afraid there's been an accident."

Those were words Dean had had to say in his life. To family of dead people. To family of those tragically taken by violence, whether it was an accident or violent murder. Dean knew the strength it took to say those words. His heart felt like it was going to stop. Ben was in the other room, and oh god how was he going to…

"What happened," Dean repeated.

"From what we know, Miss Braden and her fiancé were in an automobile accident. The police are still conducting an investigation."

"Is she um… alive?" Dean cleared his throat, trying to keep it together.

"Her injuries are severe, Mr. Winchester. Right now she's being treated in the ICU for both internal and external injuries. She's currently in traction for severe breaks in her lower extremities and they're monitoring her brain for further swelling."

"Jesus H. Okay so… what… what can I do?"

"Right now we're doing all we can for her."

"And her fiancé?"

There was that sort of pregnant pause Dean had used, because that pregnant pause meant the fiancé hadn't made it. He was dead. He was probably the driver, and he had probably swerved to take the impact of whatever it was that hit them, or they hit. God, Dean hated those pauses.

"I see," Dean said, saving the doctor from having to go into any further detail. "Does she know?"

"She hasn't woken up yet."

Dean brushed his hand down his face and let out a sigh. "Look I um, I need to talk to our son, and we'll be down there as soon as we can. Please feel free to use this number if anything changes. I mean anything. I'm about five hours away, but we'll hit the road now."

"Mr. Winchester, right now Miss Braden is stable. Critical, but stable. It might be best if you delayed your trip a few hours and let her recover a little more."

"Yeah but she could die," Dean said, his voice rising slightly. "I can't let my kid miss… miss…" his voice cracked. His head flooded with the memory of his own dad, getting shot and killed and Dean had missed it. It hadn't been his fault, he'd been shot, too, being treated and half-conscious when it happened but he'd missed it. Sam had found him. He couldn't let Ben live with that pain. "We'll be there as soon as we can."

The doctor sighed but didn't put up a fight. Dean hung up and walked to the bathroom, his hands shaking as he flipped on the light and the fan to blot out any noise. His stomach heaved and suddenly he lost whatever hadn't digested from dinner. Beer and food and it was a nasty combination, but he felt better when he was done. He splashed water on his face and threw his toothbrush through his mouth. His brain could not wrap around Lisa being dead. That thought did not compute. It was impossible. The moments Dean hated the bitch did not outweigh the fact that she was Ben's mother. She had birthed Dean's child, and for that he would always love her.

Fuck.

Walking back into his room, he glance at the clock. Three AM. Should he wake Ben? He paced around in front of his bed and then picked up his phone. Sam answered after two rings, trained to wake up if the phone went off in the middle of the night.

"What happened?"

It took Dean a total of forty five seconds to spill the entire story. "I'm freaking out, Sammy. How the hell am I going to tell the kid that his mom might die?" Dean felt like puking all over again.

"I'm coming over," Sam said, and Dean could hear his brother getting out of bed. There was a muffled protest from the bed's other occupant, but Sam explained it swiftly and Dean heard Gabriel wake immediately up. "We'll be there in ten."

"Jesus you two, it's three in the morning," Dean protested, but he was talking to a dead line. "Shit," he said and threw his phone on the bed. As much as he wanted to argue, because propriety told him he should be arguing, the fact that his brothers were coming over was a massive, almost overwhelming comfort. He grabbed a pair of sweats from his drawer and threw on a t-shirt.

In the hallway, Dean peered through Ben's half-open door and saw the teen asleep, his arm thrown over his face, mouth open. The kid could sleep through nearly anything, so Dean was hoping to have a few minutes with Sam and Gabe before he had to wake him and tell him what happened.

They'd have to leave soon if they wanted to get there right when the hospital started allowing visitors, and Dean felt like every second was a waste. But this was his kid, and he wasn't going to make rash decisions.

Sam and Gabe let themselves in and found Dean in the kitchen hovering over his coffee pot. They were bleary-eyed, but present. Sam pulled Dean into a fierce hug and Dean took a shuddering breath, in and out, slow and deliberate. "What am I going to tell him?"

"The truth," Sam said. He pushed Dean back and took him by the shoulders. "It's going to suck no matter how you lay it out, and you don't have all the details yet, so just tell him what you know."

He wasn't sure if it was the coffee smell or the sounds of his uncles that woke Ben, but a few seconds later the sleepy teen padded into the kitchen. His eyes flickered from the drawn faces of his uncles to the near-tears of his dad and he knew immediately something was up.

"What is it? Is it mom?"

Dean's face crumpled a little and Ben's eyes immediately filled with tears. He took a step back, but Gabe caught him and held him tight. "She's not dead, kiddo, okay. She's been in an accident, and she's in the hospital. We're taking you to go see her right now."

Ben's throat was so tight he couldn't speak. He cried though, out of fear, because teenage boy or not, the idea of your mom laying dying in the hospital shook him up. He nodded, and then let his dad take over with the hugging.

"I don't have all the info, only that the accident was pretty bad and… and…" Dean hesitated, because while he didn't really care for the boyfriend, Ben liked the guy, and he was always good to Ben. He glanced over at Sam who nodded, his eyes a bit red around the edges and his face drawn. Dean pulled Ben into the living room and sat him down. "The doctors say your mom has a lot of injuries, bad ones, and she's hooked up to a lot of machines and stuff. Right now she's in bad shape, but she's stable."

Ben let out a breath. "Yeah. Okay."

"But…" Dean hesitated once more. "Look kid, there's no easy way to say this and… and shit I am so sorry. It's just… from what the doctor told me, Jeff didn't make it."

Ben's mouth quivered, but his face went hard and his eyes narrowed. "Oh," he said after a second.

"When we get there, I'm going to find out exactly what happened, okay? I promise. I'll find out everything and we'll stay right by your mom until she's better. I swear."

Ben nodded silently and then went into his room, the door slamming behind him. Dean rose to go after him, panicking because he knew how the kid must be feeling, but Sam stopped him. "Let him be. He's gotta process this. Let's just get ready for the trip."

Dean gave a laugh and looked between Sam and Gabe. "You two clowns are coming?"

"Like we'd let you make this drive alone," Gabe said, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Jesus," Dean said again, the name seeming to pepper the really fucked up evening, but in truth, it was full of affection. He wasn't going to be alone on this ride with Ben, and Ben was going to be surrounded by the people who loved him most in the world. Dean hadn't been so lucky when his dad had died.

Twenty minutes later had them in the car. Gabe rode up front with Dean, Sam in the back next to his nephew who still hadn't said a word. Metallica played softly in the background, no one bothering to change it, turn it up or turn it off. The impala hummed beneath them, and occasionally Gabe asked if Dean wanted him to take over, but he simply shook his head and said he was fine.

He made the five hour drive in three and a half.

It was just past seven when they pulled up to the hospital, and Ben nearly flew out of the car, rushing to the doors before Sam stopped him. "Whoa there, kid. We have to check in and get everything situated. Your dad's gotta talk to doctors, and then we can go in. Okay?"

Dean had never been more grateful for his brother. Taking a deep breath, he approached is son, put his arm around the kid's shoulders and they entered the lobby. A not-quite friendly receptionist directed them to the ICU where there was a small waiting room with three people, all looking glum, and a phone.

Dean motioned for Ben, Sam, and Gabe to sit while he picked it up and listened to it ring. The nurse answered. "Hi, my name is Dean Winchester and I'm here to see Lisa Braden."

"One visitor is allowed a time, Mr. Winchester. I'll buzz the door."

Dean cradled the phone and turned back to his family. "Only one at a time. I'm going to go talk to the doctors and after a bit, you can go in, okay kid?"

Ben nodded miserably, not looking up, and Sam quickly put his arm around his nephew. Dean felt sick all over again, and when he heard the beep, he pushed open the two heavy doors and walked into the stark, sterile hallway.

Dean had been in the ICU in the hospital many times. When Sam had been sick, when he'd been shot, when his dad had been over the years in the line of duty. But this was different. This was so, so different.

The nurse greeted him. She was older, frizzy, black and grey hair, drawn face. She looked like she'd been awake for days. "His room is right this way. The doctor is in right now doing his morning check, and he'll want to talk to you."

Dean gave a solemn nod and walked into the room. It smelled like rubbing alcohol and human waste and he felt his stomach churn. The doctor was standing next to the bed taking readings off of machines, and he turned when Dean approached the bed.

Dean couldn't look at him right away, not with the sight of Lisa in the bed like that. There was a huge, metal contraption tented above the bed, attached to her legs, holding them out and straight. They were covered, but Dean had a feeling they were screwed into them. He'd heard the word traction before somewhere, and he was pretty sure that meant drilling into bone. Or something.

Her face was a mess. Eyes both black, and a huge lump on her forehead was purple, and Dean could see it bleeding down into her skin. Her lips were cracked and scabbed, and a giant cut marred the right side of her cheek. Her left arm was in a cast, and he could see behind her, she was strapped down, immobile.

"How bad is she, really?" Dean asked. He eyed the tube down her throat and looked over at the machine that was breathing for her.

"Right now she's stable," the doctor said in a surprisingly rough voice. "We can't be sure, and right now we're keeping her in a medically induced coma until the swelling in her brain goes down. Once that happens, we can get a clearer picture of her head injuries and assess the damage further."

Dean licked his lips and tore his eyes away from her. "Her son's with me."

The doctor flinched a little. "Just make sure you explain what to him what he needs to expect. It's usually most shocking for the children."

Dean wanted to defend his son. He was almost an adult, he could hold his own, but the truth was, he was terrified how Ben was going to react. "How long do you think she'll be unconscious?"

"Hard to say, Mr. Winchester. The accident was severe."

"What the hell happened?"

"It was explained to me that the car was impacted by a semi-truck, pushed down a ravine and crushed against the side of a tree. The police said the accident appeared to be deliberate, however they're investigating." The doctor paused, fished out a card from his pocket and handed it over. "This is the detective in charge of the case. He said when you arrived to give you a call. He tried to contact you through your work phone but the line was going to voicemail."

Dean realized he'd left his work phone at home on the counter. Shit. "Thanks," Dean said. "I'm going to send Ben back now."

He felt like he was walking outside of his body. Shock, he knew, but it was hard to stay focused. Someone had run them off the road? Someone had tried to kill Lisa and her fiancé? It didn't make any sense. He realized he was standing in the lobby and had been for some time. Ben, Sam, and Gabe were all staring at him.

With a shaking voice, Dean explained the situation. Ben gave a solemn nod and was determined to see her. Dean had to fight down the urge to accompany his son, and as the boy disappeared through the double doors, Dean collapsed in between his brothers. He hung his head low and explained what the doctor had said, and the information he didn't want Ben to find out right now.

"Who would do this?" Dean asked. "I don't understand."

Gabe quickly plucked the card out of Dean's hand and stood up. "I know this guy. He's pretty decent, little bit of a prick sometimes, but we've worked together before. Let me call him and you take a load off, okay bro?"

Dean didn't have the energy to argue or try and stop his brother in law as the shorter man ducked out of the ICU waiting room and went around the corner. Sam carefully put his arm around Dean, squeezing his shoulder, and Dean let out a shuddering sigh.

"I'm freaking the hell out."

Sam nodded. "I know, man. It's going to be okay, though."

Dean rubbed his face and shook his head. "Is it, though? I mean, you and I have been in this business long enough to know shit like this doesn't just randomly happen. Semi trucks don't just run drivers off the road like that. People aren't just murdered like that."

"Except we've been in this business long enough to know that sometimes, Dean, they are."

Ben emerged a half hour later, and by that time, Gabe had come back with the info. The driver of the truck was in custody, and from what it looked like, it was a paid job. He was drugged heavily and had a spotty memory of the accident. He had a piece of paper on him with the make, model, and license plate number of Lisa's car.

The hit had been deliberate and planned. Dean's head was spinning, but he couldn't lose control. He was a detective, a veteran detective who'd been to hell and back on the job. He'd been shot more than once, and he'd solved cases more than anyone in his county. He had to pull his shit together.

The doctor insisted that Lisa would be kept in the coma for at least the next seven days, and he assured Dean that there was presently no cause to believe that Lisa's vitals would drop and she would code. She was stable and steady, and healing. Carver had called six times, threatening Dean with suspension if the detective wasn't on duty Monday morning.

"Look, you want me to find someone for you to stay with?" Dean asked Ben, who looked upset about having to leave the hospital.

Ben shook his head. "The only thing for me to do right now is school, and I think I'd rather be home."

Dean agreed, arranged for a leave of absence with the school, and then insured with the Santa Barbara police department that Lisa's room would be under surveillance. Dean made sure she was given top priority.

Exhausted, Dean let Sam take the wheel and during most of the drive, he and Ben dozed in the back seat. They got home late, both of them trudging upstairs to crash without even saying a proper goodbye to Sam and Gabe, but the couple didn't seem offended.

It had been a shit night, and they all just needed some rest.

The next morning, Dean woke early, made a pot of coffee and was surprised to see Ben up. The kid looked wrecked, but Dean couldn't blame him for his insomnia. "I think I'd like you to come with me today," Dean said. It wasn't really protocol to bring along his teenaged son, but considering the circumstances, and that Lisa had been targeted, he doubted even Carver would argue with him. He did have the French class that morning, but he figured Ben could get a jump on his homework.

Ben argued a little, but considering the information Dean had given him, the kid seemed more relieved to go with Dean than to stay in the house alone all day. They went to the station early and all of the cops, who had heard a good portion of what happened, gave Dean and his kid extra wide birth.

By the time French class arrived, Dean was ready to be away from the station.

"So this teacher is Uncle Gabe's brother?" Ben asked, fiddling with his phone. "That dude we saw at ice cream the other night?"

"Yep," Dean said. He guided the Impala into a parking spot and shut off the engine. "Probably best if you don't mention it to your uncles."

"And you've got a date with this guy?" Ben pressed.

Dean felt his cheeks go pink. "Yeah well, it's probably a good idea if I cancel. What with your mom being in the hospital this week and all…"

Ben slammed the car door and walked up to his dad. "Dude, dad, Uncle Sammy and Uncle Gabe are right. You're always looking for excuses not to date. Like it's not going to make mom any better or any worse if you have dinner with some dude."

Dean rolled his eyes. "If you think I'm leaving you alone with everything going on…"

"I'll stay with Uncle Sammy," Ben said. "Overnight if I have to."

Dean rolled his eyes and cuffed his son on the shoulder as they rode up to class. Dean had made it a point to arrive a good fifteen minutes early today. Though Castiel was likely to understand the need for the teen to sit in on the class, he wanted to take a few minutes to explain.

Peering in the window to the room, Dean breathed a sigh of relief to see Castiel inside at the desk and no other students around. He pushed the door open and smiled when Cas looked up. The teacher smiled, but cocked his head to the side at the sight of Dean's son.

"We've had a complicated weekend," Dean said, scratching the back of his head. "It's sort of um… necessary… that I bring the kid with me. I hope that's okay."

Castiel crossed the distance between them and kept his voice low as he talked. "What happened? Obviously something dire enough to have your son with you on a school day."

"His mother was in an accident," Dean said, and he felt Ben stiffen beside him. "She's in the ICU right now, and it looks like the person who hit her did it on purpose. Right now it's a safety precaution."

"Say no more. Bienvenue dans la classe de français, Ben."

"Merci beaucoup," Ben said. Heureux d'être ici."

Castiel let out a surprised chuckle and Dean whipped his head around to his son. "You speak French?"

Ben gave a shrug. "I took Spanish the first two years, so I decided to give French class a try this year." He quickly moved to the back, taking the seat furthest in the corner of the room and put his headphones on.

Dean looked at Cas and sighed. "It's been really rough. His mom is in really bad shape, and his soon-to-be step-dad didn't survive the crash." Dean swallowed against the lump in his throat.

"I'm so sorry," Castiel said, and looked like he meant it. "Listen, if you'd like to reschedule our dinner, I'm happy to oblige."

Dean considered it, he really did. Hell, he'd been reconsidering going at all after his chat with Gabe, but Castiel looked so sincere, and he just couldn't believe he'd run out on Dean if things got serious. Granted, he didn't really know the guy, but he seemed genuinely good. And frankly, a night out, good food, and taking a moment to forget the shit-storm raining down on him was really appealing.

"Actually, my brother's got the kid for the night, so I think a night out might be nice."

Dean hadn't noticed how much tension Castiel had been holding until he visibly relaxed at Dean confirming their date. He gave a soft smile and said, "I'll make you something extra special."

Before Dean could reply, students began to file in. Dean slid into his usual desk and watched with wide eyes as a few of the scantily clad, young women slid into desks near his son. Ben instantly perked up and pulled one earbud out of his ear.

"Hey, how's it going ladies?"

Dean almost choked at the sound. That was his voice. His seventeen year old, I'm so fucking cool, I'm almost too cool for myself, voice Dean had perfected in high school. He watched as Ben introduced himself, winked, and then, though Dean thought it would never be possible, he managed to get all three of their phone numbers.

"Jesus," he muttered to himself. He had half a mind to stand up and embarrass the shit out of his son right then, but when he looked to the front of the room and Castiel smiled and winked at him, he realized that would be a bad idea.

Class went by swiftly. Ben and Dean hung back to chat with Castiel after, Dean in no rush to get back to the office. They took the elevator down and then paused on the side of the street.

"I can't stay today, I'm standing in for another professor in," Cas checked his watch, "six minutes."

Dean sighed. "Yeah I gotta get back to the office. I am just so ready for this day to be over. I have to figure out what the hell I'm going to do with him, you know?" He glanced over at Ben who was standing several feet away, kicking one foot against the curb, his music on full blast. "His mom's not going to recover any time soon, which means I have to figure out school and all that shit for him. I just don't even know how I'm going to do that to him. Rip him away from his friends and classes and life?"

Cas gave a somber nod. "I understand. It's never tough being dragged from place to place. We suffered a lot, never being able to settle down anywhere, but it helps that he has you and your brother—and even mine—to give him support."

Dean nodded and pressed his fingers to his eyes. "It just feels like a nightmare." And then, in the distance, Dean heard it. The squealing of car tires, the roar of an engine. He looked up to see a large pick up hurtling toward Ben, one tire up on the sidewalk, and it was moving too fast for Dean to do anything.

He dove after his son, but he was too far. Just before the truck made impact, a flash of brunette hair yanked Ben back by his shirt collar, throwing him against the building and the truck squealed, braked, and then roared off before Dean could get the plate number.

Shaking, Dean jumped up and ran to Ben who was rubbing the back of his head. He'd hit the concrete, but he was alive, and he was fine. Gasping for air, holding his hand on his son's shoulder, Dean looked up to a familiar, and very unwanted face.

"Well well well, didn't think we'd be meeting up like this."

Dean swallowed thickly and knew now exactly what was going on and who was trying to kill his family. He stood up and faced her, arms crossed over his chest. "Meg. Good to see you again."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes**: Okay so this chapter does contain a sex scene. Halfway explicit, I like to try and be as tactful as I can with my smut, you know how it goes lol. I have nooooo idea how long this fic is going to be, and I realize AU isn't super popular but I'm having such a blast writing it that I don't care! :p So I hope you like it.

**Chapter 6**

It took Dean a moment for it all to sink in. Meg was standing there, the car who had nearly hit his son had driven off, and his son had almost been crushed. Bile rose into his throat and he found himself using Castiel's shoulder to keep himself upright.

Meg stood there, arms crossed over her chest. Her round face was set in a smirk, her long, wavy dark hair ruffled in the San Francisco breeze. She looked down at the boy, head cocked to the side. "You okay there, kid?"

Ben, who was shaking and pale, gave a nod. "I um… I, yeah. I think so. I think my head is bleeding."

Dean knelt beside the boy and checked him. The side of his head had made contact with the building and there was a small gash, nothing major. A concussion was doubtful, but he could already hear the sirens in the distance. God bless whoever had called the police, because Dean didn't think he had the energy to place a call to the over-exhausted, apathetic, phone operators right then.

He checked his son's pupils. They were responsive and even. He was in shock from the scare, but he was going to be okay. As he stood, his body filled with rage and he rounded on the woman. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Besides saving your kid's ass?" Meg asked and grinned. "I came here to pass along a warning. Not too soon, it seems."

Dean reached into his pocket and sent a text to his brother. 'Be at your phone in five minutes. Emergency.' Glancing back at Castiel, he saw he was watching Meg with a hint of trepidation. "Do you two know each other?"

"You wanna answer that, or should I?" Meg asked, and winked. "Oh come on, Clarence, it wasn't that bad, was it?"

"Clarence?" Dean asked.

Castiel's cheeks pinked. "Would you mind if I explained it in private. Elsewhere?"

"Uh yeah kind of," Dean said. "Do you know who she is?"

"I do," Cas replied.

"Oh well that's freaking awesome," Dean bit.

Meg rolled her eyes. "Hey, I'm one of the good guys now, remember?"

Dean snorted and then helped Ben to his feet. "That's a stretch. I'm sorry but ratting out your buddies and then taking a two year vacation in Greece doesn't exactly make you a good guy."

"I guess I'm in good company then," she grinned. The sirens got closer and Meg shoved her hands into her pocket. "That would be my cue, boys. I'll be in touch, Dean. I have a lot more information for you."

Dean wanted to stop her, to demand what she knew, but the ambulance was tearing around the corner, two patrol cars on its tail. He caught sight of her black leather jacket as she disappeared around the corner, and he turned back to Cas, desperate for answers.

"You and I are not done," Dean growled.

Cas bowed his head. "I know."

Dean swallowed thickly and turned his attention to the two, college-age EMT's who jumped out of the ambulance. They were over-muscled, over-oiled, clearly on the job to impress women, but they were efficient. Ben was assessed, no signs of concussion, but a scan was recommended. Dean declined the ambulance to the hospital to save a little on what his insurance wouldn't cover. Ben was still pale and shaking, but he was starting to relax.

The patrol offices were a couple of dudes Dean had seen down at his station a few times. They didn't belong to his particular precinct, but Dean had been in the business long enough to know almost everyone, even the rookies.

He gave his statement even as his phone went off in his pocket three separate times. It had passed the five minute mark and Sam was probably panicking. "That's about all I've got, okay," Dean finally said. "This is obviously related to the case down in Santa Barbara. I'll do follow up with the detective. Email me the report when you're done," Dean commanded. He passed along his card, despite the two officers having his information in their database.

Ben was sitting on the low wall by the entrance to the building and Dean held up a finger for him to wait. He pulled out his phone and called his brother back.

"Jesus man, what is going on?" Sam asked, breathless. Dean could hear the sounds of Sam walking out to his car.

"Ben was almost killed," Dean said, deciding it was past the point of sugar-coating anything. "It just got really fucking complicated. I'm taking him over to General to have his head looked at. The car missed him, but his head caught the concrete wall pretty bad."

"I'll meet you there," Sam said.

There was no arguing with his little brother. Dean hung up and carefully, he took his son to the car. As much as he wanted to lead-foot the drive, Dean drove carefully and slowly, easing through turns, avoiding speed bumps and roundabouts. He let the valet at General take the car and he brought Ben into the lobby.

The wait was going to take ages, but Dean slipped his name and rank along with the situation, and just as Sam came strolling in through the sliding glass doors, Ben was called back into triage. Dean motioned his brother along and they followed the impatient, over-tired nurse into the small desk area. The boy's pulse, o2 levels, and blood pressure were measured. No temperature, pupils still reacting normally.

Dean explained the accident with an impatient, "Of course we notified the police, there is a record of the incident, I'm a detective for fuck's sake," at which point Sam took over because Dean's stress and fears were starting to take control. Sam sent Dean out to the vending machines for a bottle of water.

With a deep breath, Dean leaned his forehead against the cool plastic and put his dollar in. The little tray rose up and the bottle of Dasani dropped into it and was carted back down. Ben was probably going to be taken right in for the scan, and Sam was with him. There was no hurry, and Dean needed to get control.

His phone buzzed and he answered it without looking. "Winchester."

"I was just informed of your son's attack." The nasal, unwelcome voice of Zachariah Carver oozed through the speaker, making Dean feel instantly violated and dirty.

"I'm at General right now," Dean said by way of explanation.

"And apparently there was an attack on your son's mother earlier," Carver said. "You didn't feel this was pertinent information?"

Dean rolled his eyes and pressed his forehead harder into the vending machine's plastic. "I didn't realize the information was pertinent until now, Sir."

"I expect you in my office at 7 AM sharp tomorrow morning," Carver said. "Agent Michael will be with me."

Dean felt bile rise in his throat again. Agent Michael. The smarmy, piece of shit that had led Dean's IA case after Crowley had walked. Michael had done everything in his power to have Dean not only fired, but arrested for tampering with evidence. When the hearing ruled in favor of Dean, Michael had made it his mission to hound Dean's every step, with Carver's blessing.

"See you then, Sir," and with that, Dean hung up. "Fucking prick."

"Where is he?"

Dean turned to see his brother in law standing there. He was suited-up, tie and all, which meant he'd come from court. Dean raised a shaking hand toward the double doors leading back into the main hospital. "Triage. Sam's with him."

Gabe let out a sigh and shook his head, his hand running back through his hair. It was a habit he'd picked up from Sam, and despite the situation, it made Dean smile. "What the hell happened, man? What is going on?"

Dean was torn between wanting to tell Gabe everything and wanting to get back to his son. The information, however, came first since Sam was with the boy. He spilled it all, every step from when they'd left the building, to finding out his brother had been associated with Meg.

"Any idea how your brother knows her?" Dean demanded. He studied Gabe's face hard. Gabe was a good liar, but over the years, Dean had learned how to read him.

"Look man, as much as my brother has pissed me off over the years, I can't see him having any involvement in this mess," Gabe said, and all signs pointed to honesty. "Granted, I haven't been around old Cassie in years, either, so who knows, but all signs point to it being a really fucked up coincidence."

Dean licked his lips and took a deep breath. "I've got a date with him Wednesday night, and I plan to find out exactly what he knows about Meg Masters, and if he's got anything to do with Crowley…" Dean wasn't a big conspiracy theorist, but it wasn't unreasonable to think Crowley had sent someone after him. And how poetic to make Dean fall for the guy first. How even more poetic that the guy was the brother of Sam's husband.

Gabe put his arm around Dean a little awkwardly because of their size difference, but the comfort was welcome. Together they were let back in the room and found Sam in the radiology waiting room, pacing. His face relaxed almost instantly at the sight of his husband and brother, and he gave Gabe a quick peck on the lips before the three of them sat.

"They don't think he's got a concussion," Sam said. "Ben pretty much walked me through everything."

Dean gave a nod and hug his head slightly. "Including Meg?"

"Ben didn't know exactly who she was, but I figured it out," Sam said pensively. "And your French teacher knows her?"

Dean nodded, feeling miserable every time someone said it aloud. "Apparently so. Now Carver's on my ass because he found out about Lisa, and he thinks I'm hiding something. I have to meet with him and Agent Michael tomorrow morning."

"Oh the hell that's happening," Gabe said, his voice rising, startling the other two waiting in the room. He shrugged unapologetically and said, "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Apparently he thinks I was holding back pertinent information, whatever the hell that means," Dean grumbled. "Either way, it's not something I can avoid."

Sam was fiddling with his phone and then said, "I just cancelled all of my meetings. Sarah," he said, referring to his partner, "can handle everything I've got going on this week. Obviously we're not leaving Ben alone, and you can't keep dragging him to the office."

Dean wanted to protest, but honestly, it was just a relief. With Lisa out of commission and Carver on his ass, Dean felt out of luck. "I've got some vacation time, so as soon as I take care of this meeting, I'll put in for it."

Ben was out of the scan an hour later. To be on the safe side, they did the scan on his entire body, and then sent him to a room to wait. The doctor would have the results read shortly and would be in to let them know what, if any damage, had taken place.

Ben looked tired, but the shock had worn off and the stuff they'd given him for the pain in his head was making him drowsy. He leaned his head back against the bed and his eyes slipped closed. Dean remembered something in his first aid training about not letting a concussion victim fall asleep, but he couldn't bring himself to rouse the boy. Instead he just watched his breathing, ready to jump if anything became unusual.

No one came by for two hours, but eventually the knock sounded and the short, squat man with round glasses came in. "Mr. Winchester?" he asked, looking between all three men.

Dean stood up and extended his hand. "My name is Dean, I'm Ben's dad. These are his uncles."

The doctor gave a nod and looked back down at the medical chart. "It looks like your son is fine, Mr. Winchester. Nasty bump but no swelling and no fractures in the skull."

"Is he okay to keep doing that?" Dean asked, motioning to his sleeping son.

"Yes, perfectly fine," the doctor said. "The medication and the after-effects of shock are going to make him pretty tired. I've written him a script for the pain, and he can have one every six hours, as needed. I expect him to be pretty sore tomorrow. When your body makes an impact like that, it tends to tense up and he can expect some muscle tenderness that may last a few days. If you notice any symptoms, confusion, difficulty walking or speaking, memory loss, don't hesitate to bring him right back in."

Dean swallowed, not wanting to think about the hospital having missed something, but he had to guess it was just procedure that they brought that stuff up. He signed the release papers, gathered the prescriptions and then woke his son.

Leaning on Sam, Ben followed close at his dad's heels with Gabe bringing up the rear. They were all on high alert. It was more than likely Crowley's men that had tried to take out Lisa and Ben, and there was no telling where they were, and how they had tracked Dean and Ben to the community college. Someone was watching them, and Dean didn't want to take any chances.

It was early evening when Ben finally woke and padded into the living room. Gabe had gone back to work, but Sam had stayed on, over-ordering Chinese take-away and he and Dean were currently sitting through a Firefly marathon on Netflix.

With a huge yawn, the teen grabbed an eggroll, a small container of the neon-pink sweet and sour sauce and plunked down between the brothers. With his mouth half stuffed he said, "Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal."

Sam rolled his eyes but grinned. "Drugs working well, then?"

Ben half-shrugged. "I'm starving."

"Christ, he has the munchies," Dean said.

Ben helped himself to another egg roll. "So no concussion."

Dean shook his head and leaned just a little closer to his son, his memory of nearly losing the boy causing an over-load of parent-protective surges. "Nope. Doc says you might be a bit sore, but otherwise fine. We have to think about getting your school stuff sorted out soon, though."

Ben nodded and his face suddenly fell. "She's not getting any better, is she?"

Dean winced, so Sam instantly took over. "Hey look kid, it's only been a day or so, okay? That kind of healing, the kind your mom needs to do, can take a really, really long time. And you and I both know she wouldn't want you to just sit around eating egg rolls until she heals up. And you know how pissed she'd get if she found out you had to repeat your senior year, especially since your scholarships are riding on it."

"If I'm not already fucked in that department," Ben said.

"Trust me, you're not," Sam said. "I know you didn't really get a chance to know your grandfather, but that dude was a piece of work, and I still managed to get a full ride to Stanford."

Ben relaxed visibly and Dean realized then just how important Ben's future was. And he'd almost lost all of it today. He tried to keep his rage in check, but it was hard. He grabbed his beer from the table and stood up. "I'm going to grab some fresh air, okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Ben said from behind a yawn. His eyes were drooping again now that he was full and comforted by his father and uncle.

Sam followed Dean out onto the terrace, both men perching so they could look directly into the window at the couch. "You okay, man?"

Dean gave a half-laugh and shook his head. "Truthfully? No, I'm not." He scratched at the back of his head and then rubbed his eyes with his thumb and fingers on one hand. "I almost lost him today, Sammy. That son of a bitch almost ran my seventeen year old kid down on the street. And for what?"

"We don't know for sure it was him," Sam said, but his defense was weak and he knew it.

"Oh come on, Sammy. First Lisa, now Ben and then Meg's back? And my date's all buddy buddy with the bitch? Something is going on, and I'll be damned if I let any more of my family get hurt in the process."

Sam's face flinched a little, aching to help his brother, but there was nothing the younger Winchester could say to make it any easier. Dean was right, someone was after Dean, after his family, and any one of them could be next.

Six AM came fast, and Dean felt ill rested as he trudged to the kitchen. He was happy to see that coffee had already been started, and Sam was sitting at the small kitchen table with Gabe, sharing a quiet breakfast. They both looked up and Sam beckoned Dean over, offering him a plate of pancakes and bacon.

Stomach too tense to really eat much, Dean grabbed a couple pieces of the bacon, but declined the rest. He filled his travel mug with coffee and rummaged through his fridge. He only had coconut creamer, crap Sam was trying to get him hooked on since apparently dairy was the worst thing for you, and soy was right behind. Whatever. Dean didn't have time to argue with that hippy crap. He poured it into his coffee and tested it.

"You riding with me today?" Dean finally asked Gabe as he straightened his tie. He was forcing himself to look extra presentable for that son of a bitch Michael who was going to scrutinize every move Dean made.

Gabe nodded. He, too, was dressed well, though Dean suspected it was the same suit from court the day before. He tossed an empty travel mug to his brother in law and then went to find his shoes. Peering in on Ben, Dean saw the teen fast asleep and fought back the nagging worry that leaving his son behind was leaving him in danger.

But he wasn't leaving him alone, and Sam had been a cop first. Not just a cop either, but a damned good one. Sam had dropped out of law school to join the force with his dad, but resumed the legal path once he realized he was not happy. Also taking into account Sam and Dean had been trained on firearms and tactical combat since they were near toddlers, it was likely Ben wouldn't be safer than if he was with his father.

Dean closed the door part way and went into his room. He looked down at his emergency line which had remained dormant since the night of Lisa's accident. As an afterthought, Dean slipped it into his pocket, toed on his loafers and went into the living room. Gabe was waiting, leaning into Sam's arms, and the taller man was talking quietly into Gabe's ear.

Dean felt a stomach-clenching desire to have that. Something like it. To just ease that aching loneliness for a little while, and Castiel's face popped into his head. He should be more suspicious of the man, but he just couldn't help himself.

Leaving unnecessary instructions for Sam, Gabe and Dean headed down to the car and got in. The impala rumbled louder than normal in the chilly, foggy morning. The men stayed silent, the impending stress of Dean's meeting taking over what would have been normally a casual ride in. He wasn't sure what to expect, but with Agent Michael involved, it was sure to be terrible.

At this early hour, the morning officers were just starting to arrive for shift change. Dean had a good half hour before his meeting with Carver, and he was going to use that time to look over the case-files of the man who'd hit Lisa, and see if he had any connections to Crowley.

Gabe had already decided he would be attending the meeting. He had been on the force for years before Dean joined, and despite Dean being his superior, he'd known Agent Michael for a long, long time. Dean wasn't about to argue with the support.

Thirty minutes passed quickly for the head detective. He'd gathered some information, not enough to make a case, but at least enough to feel like he was getting somewhere. He locked his computer, shrugged on his jacket and made his way to Carver's office. The blinds were drawn, but he could see the shadows of three men beyond.

Dean rapped on the door and then let himself in. Zachariah was there, sitting behind his desk, his thin mouth twisted into a smirk, his pointed nose looking more elongated in the soft desk lamp. "Ah, Dean, thank you for joining us."

Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes as he nodded to Carver, and then turned to Agent Michael who was regarding Dean with cool, brown, unamused eyes. He was almost as tall as Dean, not quite, but managed to come across as imposing and threatening. He actually looked a bit like Dean's father had when John had been younger. Slim, broad shoulders, rich black hair. Attractive, if he'd been any other man, but to Dean he was repulsive. He was smarmy and there was just something not quite right about the man.

"Agent Michael," Dean said, not wanting to let the douchebag get in the first word. "Glad to see you could take time out of your oh-so busy schedule to attend this little chat."

Michael's eyes narrowed. "Pleasure as always, Detective Winchester."

Dean and Gabe were directed to seats while Michael stood near Carver's desk, hands folded over his front. Carver sat back in his chair, assuming a relaxed pose, smiling at both men. "So… little incident we have going, it seems. Extending all the way to Santa Barbara county." Dean bit the inside of his cheek to refrain from talking back. "You were recently down there, were you not?"

"I was picking up my son," Dean said gruffly. "And I went back Sunday morning when I heard his mother had been in the accident."

"Yes his mother, hmm," Carver said. He clicked a button on the mouse and then smiled. "Clean record, and from what I recall, you didn't even know the boy was your son until he was… seven, was it?"

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Dean asked.

"Just confirming facts. We have one murder, two attempted homicides, one woman laying in a coma, and your boy… how was he?"

"Fine," Dean said, though he wanted to reach across the desk and punch Carver in the mouth until the man stopped talking. Permanently. "Slight bruising, but he was pulled out of the vehicle's path before it made impact. He hit his head on the wall of the building."

"Ah yes pulled out of the vehicle's path," Carver said. His smile widened. "From the description, and it was a very interesting description, the officers at the scene pegged your son's rescuer to be one Meg Masters."

Dean clenched his jaw and spoke through his teeth. "Yes."

"Yet you didn't feel this information was prudent," Agent Michael said, stepping in. "Interesting."

"She wanted to talk to me," Dean said. "She was warning me and then she took off. You'll have to forgive the fact that I was in the worst shock a parent could be in, almost watching their son killed."

"Oh well, I'm sure we can all sympathize with that," Carver said. "And luckily our officers on scene were competent enough to identify the woman."

Dean licked his lips and crossed his leg, one ankle over his knee. He gripped the crooked knee with his hands and shifted so he was sitting up straight. "Is there a point to all of this? Besides perhaps upping the surveillance on my son and considering this a personal attack by Crowley?"

"Do you have any further evidence suggesting it's him?" Michael asked.

"If I did do you think I'd be sitting here in this bullshit meeting letting the pair of you grill me like I'm some sort of criminal?" Dean fired back.

Gabe shook his head slightly at Dean. "Watch it, bro."

"Your brother's husband," Zachariah sneered, making it clear his disdain for same-sex orientation, "is right. I'd remind you that I am your superior and you will mind your tone in my office."

Dean clenched his jaw and sat back, saying nothing.

"At the present time, we are looking in to the incidents, as well as attempting to locate Miss Masters and put a surveillance team on her. If it is Crowley, mark my words, we will catch him. Legally. And put him away," Michael said, the dig not quite subtle.

Dean pursed his lips and then said, "I'd like to formally request some time off in order to make sure my son is safe. I have at least two weeks of vacation time to use and I believe this is just cause."

"You may request like any other officer does," Carver said with a smile.

Dean's face heated up. "The request system takes up to fourteen days to process."

"It does," Carver said, and spread his hands. "And I'd love to help you out, but unfortunately the years of nepotism in this precinct are over, Mr. Winchester. After all, what kind of boss would I be if I showed you special attention? We all saw where that got both you and your father… in the end."

Outside the building, Dean punched the wall. Hard. His hand cracked, and he wondered if he didn't break a few bones, but he didn't care. It was that, or Carver's face, and he couldn't risk the charge against him while Ben was in his care. He had a cigarette clenched between his teeth, and he took a long drag. Dean didn't smoke often, but times like these called for something from his emergency pack.

"That son of a bitch," he growled, shaking his hand a little. "I'm going to fucking end him one of these days."

"Watch it," Gabe warned. "These walls have ears and you know it."

Dean shook his head and began to pace. "What the hell am I going to do? Lisa's going to be out of commission for god knows how long, and that's if she makes a normal recovery. Sammy can only take so much time off, and even if I stick this kid in school, if Crowley wants him, he'll get to him there."

Gabe crossed the distance between himself and Dean, and took his brother in law by the shoulders. "Chill. Okay? We'll figure this out. As much as Carver is a great big bag of dicks, he's not going to throw your kid out to the wolves. There's evidence now that he and his mom are being targeted. Go put in your request for time off, and I'll see if I can't pull some strings above the bastard's head."

Tuesday shifted into Wednesday pretty quickly. Dean skipped French that morning, not able to deal with sitting in the class, but he'd sent Castiel a message that they were still on for the dinner. He was torn and not a little nervous about being alone with the teacher now that he knew Cas had connections to Meg. But he hoped some wine, some food and some intimacy might loosen the teacher's tongue.

It was also decided that Dean and Ben would be staying with Sam and Gabe until the whole thing blew over. The couple lived just outside of the city limits, in a house with an actual yard just steps away from the rocky shore of the beach. It had been willed to Gabe by some dead aunt or something, and it was large enough to accommodate the two extra men.

Dean told Ben he'd be enrolling him in school the following week, just as soon as they had some update on Lisa, and for the moment, Ben seemed fine with that idea. Dean was hesitant to leave the kid again, especially for a date, but Sam and Gabe were practically pushing him out the door.

"Get laid, please," Sam begged once Gabe was out of earshot. "Even if he is a bad guy."

Dean glowered, but said nothing as he slid into the Impala and began the drive back into the city. It took longer than he had expected, there had been an accident on the bridge that held up the cars for forty-five minutes, and by the time he pulled up to Castiel's building, he'd had three texts from the teacher.

Dean contemplating just bailing, but he knew he at least had to find out what Castiel knew about Meg and possibly Crowley. Already late, Dean decided to rush across the street to the small liquor store and there he picked out a mid-range Cab to bring up.

Castiel was at the door after the first knock. "I thought perhaps you were standing me up," he said.

Dean smiled and stepped inside. The apartment was small, very clean, and very warm from whatever Cas was cooking. The hardwood floors seemed to pick up all the heat, something Dean noticed after Cas motioned for Dean to remove his shoes.

As an apology, Dean presented the wine to his host. "There was an accident on the bridge, I'm sorry."

Cas smiled. "I saw it on the news, and I figured. I just haven't had a date in so long, it would be my luck that I would get stood up."

Dean flushed, feeling guilty for making Cas think that, but even more so that he'd actually considered it. He looked his date up and down and had to smile. Cas was wearing black, casual slacks covered in flower, and his bare feet were tapping out a rhythm on the hardwood as they stood there. He looked far more relaxed in his home than he did at the school, and Dean found that endearing.

"How's your son?"

Dean's anxiety returned, as did the reason he was really there. He followed Cas into the modest kitchen and used the wine key Cas passed him to open the bottle. He poured two glasses before answering. "Sore, but on the mend. No concussion or anything, so he should be ready for school come Monday."

"Are you enrolling him here?" Castiel walked back to the stove and began to stir something vigorously in a large, stainless steel pot. Whatever it was, it smelled amazing.

"Yeah, I don't think I have much choice. I can't move down to Santa Barbara, and I'm the only family he's got in California." Dean took a long drink of the wine. It hadn't been breathing long enough to fully enjoy it, but it was still good. Castiel followed suit, and tipped his glass toward Dean.

"Thank you for the wine."

Dean smiled. "Thank you for the dinner. It smells amazing."

Just then, as if on cue, a timer went off and Cas pulled the oven door down. Inside was a pastry of sorts, though it smelled far more savory than sweet. He set the pan on top of the stove next to the huge pot and let it rest.

Seeing Dean's confused stare, Castiel smiled and said, "Beef Wellington. Have you had it?"

Dean snorted. "Unless it comes pre-frozen or on a take-out menu, then no."

Castiel pulled a face, looking mildly horrified. "Well hopefully you enjoy it." He began to move about the kitchen, doing an intricate dance between pots, fridge, stove and table. As Dean watched, the table began to fill, the plates set out, and more wine was poured.

The Beef Wellington was apparently a steak of sorts, wrapped in a puff pastry with mushrooms. Castiel made a sauce which he drizzled over the top, and on the side was this yellowish grain stuff he called cous cous, and laying atop that was a halved artichoke, steamed with a sort of dressing poured over the top.

He gestured for Dean to sit, and they stared at each other, an awkward silence falling. "You uh… religious?" Dean asked, wondering if Cas was waiting for some sort of prayer.

Castiel smiled. "In my own way. Please, tuck in."

Dean needed no further encouragement. His knife cut through the meat like butter, and when he tasted the flavors, it was like nothing he'd ever had. It was rich, buttery, earthy. All those terms he'd heard on the food network Sam always had on, but words he never quite understood until now. The artichoke was tangy with the sauce, and the cous cous was spiced and wonderful.

It didn't take long until Dean's plate was clean. "Wow, that was… wow."

Castiel's cheeks were pink with pleasure at Dean's half-coherent compliments. "Thank you. There's no better praise than seeing someone clear their plate like that."

Dean flushed and put his hand on his distended belly. "Is it polite to leave a little?"

Castiel chuckled and shook his head. "Not in my home."

One bottle of wine down, Dean opened the second and refilled their glasses. He was three sheets to the wind already, but it was making being in Castiel's apartment a little easier. He still had to talk to the other man, but he was giving it some time.

"I have dessert as well," Cas said, "but we can digest a bit first."

Dean was grateful for that, and offered to help clean up, but Cas waived his hand dismissively. "I'll worry about it in the morning." He rose and led Dean back to the master bedroom. Confused and wondering if Cas was ready to just get naked, he felt a little better when he saw Castiel had a small terrace on his bedroom balcony.

They were only two stories up, but it was nice, and heated by all the wine, the chilly wind felt good on Dean's face. They settled on a small outdoor loveseat, Dean's knee brushing up against the other man's.

"So thanks for that. The dinner," Dean said. "I really needed that."

"The food or the night out?" Cas asked.

Dean smiled. "Both, I guess. It's been one nightmare after another."

"I imagine so."

Dean nodded and stared off at the twilight sky. "So are you going to tell me how you know Meg, or do I have to get you drunker." He turned to look at Cas who was blushing in the faint, white porch light.

He gave an uncomfortable laugh and bowed his head. "She and I had an… affair, if you will."

Dean's eyebrow rose. "Like sexual affair?"

Castiel gave a slow nod. "Ah yes, a sexual affair. It was short lived, and I was in a bad way when I met her."

"Was that over in Europe?" Dean was feeling a burning, raging jealousy in his gut he didn't understand, and he was trying to stamp it down.

Cas let out a breath. "I had gone to Greece on holiday. My business in Paris had tanked, I'd lost a good chunk of my savings and I was going to have to move back to the States because I couldn't maintain my work visa. I treated myself to two weeks in Athens. She and I met in a bar, we talked, she said she knew my brothers. I assumed she meant Balthazar, not Gabriel and Sam—I didn't know about your brother yet—and one thing led to another. It was pointless."

Dean nodded, taking it all in. It seemed very innocent, casual. He hesitated on bringing up the name Crowley. "And that's it? Then what, you just left?"

Cas shrugged. "She asked me to stay, but the truth was, I didn't care for her much. She was… interesting, different than most of the people I'd been with, but not what I was looking for."

Dean swallowed thickly turning just slightly to face Castiel. He was too drunk for this conversation, too drunk for the feelings this man was causing. The image of the bakery and Castiel's tongue flashed through his head and he went tight in his jeans. "What were you looking for?"

Cas looked shy suddenly, and ducked his head. "I wasn't sure at the time. Just… just not her. She kept saying I was too pure, too innocent, and it felt wrong. I'd rebelled against my family, uprooted my life, hurt people. I was not innocent. I was looking for someone who could accept all of that, who didn't care about the past with my family, who wouldn't make me try and relive that, or make me believe I'm something I'm not."

"Yeah… yeah I get that," Dean said, because he really and truly did. Castiel's eyes caught his and Dean found he couldn't tear his own away. He focused on Castiel's mouth. His lips had more ridges than most people, almost like wrinkles, and they were pale. He wondered if they were soft. His jeans grew even tighter.

"Then I met you," Cas breathed.

Dean blinked with surprise. "Me?"

Cas let out a slightly frustrated laugh and gave a shrug. "Do you think I invited you over for any other reason than because I like you?"

Dean didn't know how to answer that, because the truth was, on some level Dean suspected Castiel. He'd been warned by Gabe, then the whole thing with Meg… He shrugged and said, "I wasn't sure what your motivation was."

"Was I incorrect in assuming you felt the same way?" Cas asked. He sounded suddenly unsure, like he was going to bolt if Dean didn't do something drastic. So he did.

His hand caught the front of Castiel's shirt and tugged him, hard. Their lips crashed together, and it hurt, and Dean thought maybe Castiel's teeth had cut him a little, but he didn't really care. His other hand reached up to cup Castiel's cheek, going further into his hair. There was gel, but not too much, and it threaded softly between his fingers.

Castiel moaned and Dean's jeans became almost unbearable. He shifted his leg over, moving them closer together, their heat and hands and arms mingling until Dean wasn't sure where he began and Castiel ended. He was being pushed back, Cas hovering over him, and the wicker arm of the chair was uncomfortable but it didn't matter right then. Cas was fumbling with his zipper, freeing him. The cold air was almost shocking on his skin, but in the way that made him grow harder, and then Castiel's soft hands were traveling up his shirt.

Dean gasped, right into Castiel's mouth, but the other man's pressing tongue blocked most of the air coming out. He was kissing him so hard, and Dean wanted him right then. Castiel's fingers pinched his nipples, sending a wave of pleasure rocking straight to his core.

"Fuck," Dean said against Castiel's mouth. "Can we… uhg… can… uhg god… move inside?"

They barely broke apart, Dean fumbling for the door latch as Cas shoved him in, the carpet in the bedroom soothing against Dean's cold, bare feet. His bed was close by, and he was almost shocked by how forceful the other man was being.

He was strong too, and he picked Dean up, shoving him against the pillows and within seconds, his jeans were gone. Cas was still fully clothed, but that didn't seem to bother either man as Cas pulled Dean's shirt up over his head.

His tongue darted out, soft and careful at first, but at Dean's groan, it became harder, and teeth jointed it, clamping over a nipple, trailing down to right there, oh god… Dean's hips bucked as he was engulfed in warm, hot mouth.

Castiel was no stranger to this, no stranger at all. He sucked him down until his nose was pressed into Dean's pelvis, and then pulled away slowly. Dean's hands immediately reached down, pulling Cas up, and began to rip away at the buttons on Castiel's pants. He wanted them off, now. He wanted to feel Castiel, hard and hot in his hand, and the other man was quick to oblige.

Dean pumped him a few times until he felt the drops of liquid coat his knuckles. Dean smiled up at Cas, his eyes smouldering, and he knew Cas was going to take him there, right now. "Do you have uh… you know…"

Cas nodded and quietly reached across to the drawer where he kept condoms and lube. Dean wasted no time in helping Cas put them on, and gasped as one lube-coated finger made its way inside. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head as Cas found that spot, right there, and combined with his hand on Dean, pumping him hard and fast, Dean almost lost it.

"Too much," Dean gasped, still Castiel's hand. "Want you in me first."

Cas's cheeks, flushed and bright, quirked up with a smile, and he inserted another finger, then another. Dean felt stretched and pulled, and it had been so long since he'd fucked, and even longer since he'd bottomed, but in this moment he wouldn't have had it any other way.

He wanted to be ridden, hard and fast and he wanted this to push away all the shitty things that were happening because fuck, he was falling for this man and it was unfair and scary, and he thought he was about to go insane. Without warning, Castiel's fingers were gone, and Dean was filling up with something wider, and hotter and harder.

"Fuck," he gasped. He clung on to Castiel's shoulders for support as the other man pushed in slowly, carefully. His head was spinning, his face hot. He could feel lube dripping down his backside, pooling at the base of his spine, and he shivered.

"More," he said.

Castiel obliged until he was completely buried inside. Dean shifted so Cas was hitting that spot, right there, and god he was about to lose it. "Faster," he hissed.

Cas smiled down at him before he moved. His hand reached up to cup Dean's cheek and then he kissed him, tender and soft, and full of something Dean wasn't sure he'd ever felt, and he almost wanted to cry. But he wasn't in some fucking chick flick, and he shifted his hips, urging the other man to get on with it. And Castiel did.

It took seconds for Dean to lose it. Seconds as Castiel hit him right there, and his hand gripped around Dean and pumped him, and he was spilling, crying out Castiel's name against his shoulder, his teeth digging in to Cas's tender flesh.

It took just a few moments longer for Castiel to finish, but when he did, it was quiet, his face contorting with the pleasure, but he didn't make a sound. He shuddered, his forehead pressed against Dean's as Dean felt himself fill up with the heat of the other man's fluids.

After a moment, Cas pulled out and carefully removed the condom, tossing in into the trash. He rose without a word and brought back a warm, wet washcloth to clean them up. Dean said nothing as Cas crawled up next to him and very tentatively, very hesitantly, pressed his arm around Dean's waist.

"I didn't mean to go this far this soon," Cas said quietly in the dark room.

Dean smiled, at the words and the comfort. His eyes were heavy and he was lulling into that post-euphoric state. "It's… it felt natural." He sounded stupid, but he didn't care right then. He was still drunk, and he was half-in love with this dude he didn't even know, and didn't quite trust just yet.

Cas chuckled a little and his hand made small movements against Dean's side, rubbing along his skin in a soothing way. "I like you, Dean. A lot. Probably too much."

Dean swallowed and tried to keep his eyes open. "Gabe said you were going to run off when things get serious. He said you… you do that." He was fading fast.

"Did he?" Cas asked quietly.

Dean was losing his battle with consciousness, barely aware of himself saying, "I don't want you to hurt me. I'm already mostly in love with you and I can't… I couldn't take it."

Just before he lost his battle with the waking world, he heard Castiel say, "It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. Sleep now, and I'll watch over you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes**: Things may be getting a little twisty. Not gonna lie, I'm being a total pantser for this story. I have a basic outline, but stuff is sort of occurring to me as I go. I'm trying to avoid gaping plot-holes, but you're more than welcome to point out any huge inconsistencies because that's one of my biggest pet-peeves. Thanks!~ 3 I luv u all 5eva! (das moar den 4eva)

**Chapter****7**

For a moment, he didn't quite know where he was. All that registered was warmth, the musky smell of another person, and the heavy arm draped across his waist. Dean was laying face-down in a comfortable bed, his nose buried in the crook of another man's neck.

Castiel.

The name registered before the recognition of what it meant in his heavy, red wine hang over. He felt the center of his forehead throb and his stomach was rolling. A face joined the name, and then the memories of what had happened right before sleep claimed him.

Castiel shifted, muttering incoherently in his sleep. He clutched Dean just a fraction tighter and Dean buried his face into the warm space between them just a little deeper. He took in a deep breath and enjoyed the scent of the two of them mingling together in that bed.

Then the memories of why he had bothered to show up for the date in the first place hit him. Then he realized he'd been out all night, hadn't given his brothers any sort of warning, and he hadn't checked in on Ben. Sitting up with a gasp, he paid no mind to the fact that he'd woken Cas, and he scrambled for his jeans.

The phone was tucked into the back pocket, and the red light indicating something had occurred on his phone was blinking. A thousand scenarios went through his head, all of them ended with his family dying horribly at the hands of Crowley. He turned the screen on and saw it was a text. From Sam.

'Way to go. Enjoy.'

It was sent at 2 AM, long after Dean had lost consciousness. The little clock on the phone now read 5 AM and he realized that despite having a hangover, and despite it being the morning after a night of great sex, he still had work.

"Morning." Castiel's voice was thick and tired, and when Dean looked back, he felt a rush of affection at the messy hair and sleepy grin.

He suppressed his urge to dive back into the blankets and claim the man once more. "Sorry, I didn't meant to wake you, but I also didn't mean to stay over."

"I know," Cas said. "I didn't have the heart to wake you after you went out."

Dean rubbed his face, trying to chase away the pounding, and he put both feet on the bedroom's soft carpet. "I guess I went out pretty fast, huh?"

Castiel reached out hesitantly, his hand making contact with the small of Dean's naked back. The detective almost arched into it, controlling himself, but only barely. "You seemed like you needed it."

Well that was absolutely true. After the events over the weekend, and his boss breathing down his neck, sleep was a foreign concept for Dean. And sleeping with Cas well, Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd slept so well. "I'd better get up, though. I've gotta make it back home in time to change."

Cas looked disappointed, but rose from the bed. He was still naked, and seemed absolutely unconcerned about that fact. He took his time finding his robe, giving Dean full view of his backside, something Dean planned to take with him. Happily.

"Let me at least fix you some coffee before you go," Cas said, and then left the room before Dean could argue.

With a groan, Dean stood up and stretched his back. The athletics of the sex hadn't been over the top, but they had been enough to make him a bit sore. He carefully slipped on his jeans and shirt, wondering if he smelled as much like sex as he thought he did. It was imbedded in his nose, and part of him didn't want to shower it away just yet.

The smell of coffee drew him into the main room, however, and he found Castiel in the kitchen. The place was spotless, and Dean realized Cas must have gotten up and cleaned after Dean had passed out. He felt somewhat bad about it, his upbringing mentally flogging him for not being up to help, but he accepted the steaming cup of coffee anyway, and smiled.

"Thanks." He took a sip and his eyes widened. Whatever the brew was, it wasn't like any coffee Dean had ever had before. His eyes roamed the counter until it fell on a small pot made of clear glass, with a push-handle on the top, and inside was the rich, black brew.

"It's a French press," Cas said, following Dean's eyes. "And that coffee is something I brought back from Greece."

"It's fantastic."

Cas grinned. "I know." He stared at Dean for a long time before coming to a decision. Dean watched it play out on his face, and didn't pull back when Cas closed the distance between them, sliding his arms around Dean's waist and reaching his face up to kiss the side of Dean's mouth. "Thank you."

Dean frowned. "For what?"

"For everything. For last night. For not judging me or making assumptions. For hearing my brother's warning about me but showing up anyway." Castiel kissed him again, and this time, Dean kissed back. It was chaste, his mouth a little funky from not being brushed yet, but it was warm and full of affection. "Not a lot of people would have given me the benefit of the doubt."

"I'm not a saint, Cas," Dean said, his voice low. "I didn't come here in spite of your brother, I came here to find out what you knew."

"I know," Cas said. "That doesn't change all the reasons why last night happened."

Dean realized the implications of the words 'last night' and he felt his cheeks heat up. But Castiel was right, because Dean hadn't slept with him because of the alcohol, or to spite Gabe, or even as Sam had suggested, to get laid even if Cas was a bad guy. He had done it because he really just liked this guy, probably too much, and despite being afraid, he wanted it.

Dean set the coffee down and pulled Castiel closer. "I've got a really fucked up situation on my hands right now, I need to make that clear. A few years ago, I fucked up a case and this big, bad mother fucker walked. Now I think he's after me, my kid, and everyone I care about. You might fall under that umbrella if we're not careful."

Cas pulled away slightly, looking up at Dean, his face pensive and drawn. "I can take care of myself."

"I'm sure you can," Dean said, believing that, "but that doesn't change the facts. You need to know what you're getting into if you want to keep seeing me."

Cas couldn't seem to help the smile that crossed his face. "Believe me Dean, I've been with a lot worse."

The drive back to Sam's was short, and walking up the path, he knew he was making the walk of shame. Two buttons on his shirt were missing, his jeans rumpled, and he smelled like wine and sweat. His hair was greasy, face splotchy, and he could only hope at this early hour he wouldn't have to face his son.

Sam was sitting in the recliner when Dean walked in, and he turned it, arms crossed. "Do you have any idea how—"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Spare me. I have the worst fucking hangover right now."

Sam smirked and without warning, tossed a small, white bottle in Dean's direction. With automatic reflexes, Dean's hand jumped up and caught it. "I figured. Looks like you had a good night."

Dean sighed a little and then went to the bathroom to start the shower. He popped four of the pills into his mouth and shoved his face under the faucet for a gulp of water to wash them down. The bathroom filled up with steam and he stepped into the near-scalding hot stream.

It felt good. His muscles began to relax, and despite knowing he was probably going to be late, he took his time. Gabe was up and fed by the time Dean was dressed, and he ignored the smirks coming from both men as he fixed himself his coffee and grabbed a bagel from Sam's breadbox.

"Carpooling again?" Dean asked.

Gabe shook his head. "I have court this afternoon at one. In fact, I'm not going in for another hour, I have too much to prepare."

Dean glanced at the files on the coffee table and was glad he wasn't his brother in law. "Tell the kid to call me when he's up. I want to check on him and make sure he's getting prepared for school. I think we'll also head down to see Lisa this weekend if the docs say it's okay."

Sam nodded and then pushed his brother out the door. The drive to the precinct was longer from Sam's than from Dean's, and he had to cross the bridge, which was always a nightmare. An early morning fog had rolled in, sending the bridge into an near stand-still, and before he was across, his phone began to light up.

Dean knew who it was, and really didn't want to answer. "Winchester," he said, despite his desire to just throw the phone off the bridge and into the bay below.

"So is this how things are now? You feel like it's a come and go as you please type of job?" The nasal sneer of Carver made Dean want to put his fist through his window.

"Sorry, sir," Dean said, his voice tight, "but I'm stuck on the bridge."

"The bridge? Oh, big date was it? Some barely legal collage boy? Or is it another drug pusher?" Carver asked.

Dean bit the inside of his cheek so hard he began to bleed. "No, sir. My son and I are staying with Sam and Gabriel until I can get some proper time off and some proper surveillance. Safety in numbers."

"Well don't make this a habit, Winchester."

Dean swore a blue streak after the line went dead, throwing his phone onto the seat next to him. Fuck, he hated Carver. His dad wasn't be best guy. He was consumed with finding the man who had murdered Dean and Sam's mother, and that revenge often eclipsed his ability to be a decent parent, and sometimes a decent cop. But he wasn't like Carver. John Winchester had tried, and he had sacrificed himself in order to save his sons, and Dean wasn't sure how that sacrifice had landed him with a man like Carver breathing down his neck.

Then again, Dean reasoned, when had his life ever been fair?

Even Sammy had suffered. Dragged onto the force by Dean to help try and balance out his father, Sam had been targeted by the serial killer who'd taken their mother, and his fiancée had been killed for it. Eventually they'd gotten the man, after their lives had been ravaged, and John had been killed, and Dean had been shot. Sam had been stabbed in the spine, spending months in ICU and nearly a year learning to walk again. But they'd gotten their man and Sam had left the force to finish his law degree. He passed the bar and got hired on to the DA and all was well.

Until Crowley. The smarmy British bastard who seemed to have something personal against Dean.

Dean pulled into the station and went inside. He wasn't really that late, only twenty minutes or so, and frankly none of the other detectives really stuck to such a strict timetable. It was only ever Dean being thrown under the microscope. He caught a glimpse of Zachariah walking to his office and gave a tense nod before sliding into his desk chair.

A few people said hi, but for the most part no one paid him any mind. He had six cases to look at, all of them murders, all of them suspected heads of crime syndicates. They'd all been tortured before death, all found strapped to tables, cut to ribbons. A mark of Crowley's men.

But Crowley had a rock-solid alibi. He was in Canada at the present time, and hadn't been seen setting foot or even communicating with any of his suspected men in the States. Dean let out a frustrated growl.

"Hell, he's almost doing us a favor," came a quiet voice from behind Dean. A familiar voice, and a very welcome one at that.

Dean spun around and saw his father's best friend, the man who had practically raised him and Sam when John was off under cover, and the man who had talked Dean into joining the force. Bobby Singer. He'd been recruited by the FBI, so they didn't see him often, and frankly he was very out of place with the bureau. Bobby was a hunter, a country boy in coveralls and trucker hats and a beard that always had shit left over from his lunch buried in the whiskers.

But he was damn good. One of the best the bureau had ever had, and Bobby knew it. He was suited up, all black, crisp white shirt, and Dean smirked. "You here to help me out or pass out religious tracts?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Idjit. I heard about Lisa. Sam called and I put immediate surveillance on her and your boy."

Dean let out a small breath of relief. "Last I heard you were in Brazil on some Interpol case. I didn't even think to call."

"Not a surprise," Bobby snarked as he yanked a chair over to Dean's desk. "I had that idjit Carver send me over the case files last night and I think you and Mr. M&M's are on to something."

Dean snorted at the nickname for Gabe, and he shrugged. "Yeah well, fat lot of good being 'on to something' is when we don't have any evidence."

"What about Meg? Carver said she was at the scene when that truck almost got the boy."

Dean shuddered at the memory, but gave a nod. "Yeah. She was the one who pulled him out of the way."

"Well ain't that interesting," Bobby said. "Crime lord becomes local hero."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't call that bitch a hero, for one, and two, I have no idea what she wants. She said she'd be in touch but I haven't heard a word since."

"Well her appearing out of thin air and this nonsense going down," Bobby said, nodding at the case files, "it all adds up."

Dean put his hands behind his head and let out a breath. "Yeah, it does. Carver brought Agent Michael back down to watch my ass, so I have to say, it's really good to see you, Bobby. Really, really good."

Dean got the call from Castiel right around lunch time, and found himself driving to the middle of downtown to a Pho restaurant the teacher swore was the best restaurant in San Francisco. It took Dean twenty minutes to find parking six blocks away from the restaurant. It was starting to sprinkle as he stepped out of the car, and as he made his way past bank buildings and shops, it began to pour.

He was soaked by the time he got to the place, and he looked reluctantly up at the sign with only half the lights working, and a filthy front store window. Dean was the kind of guy who'd eat almost anything, but this might be pushing it.

He could see the foggy form of Castiel inside, waving him in. Dean pulled open the door and the rich, heavy, Asian spices flooded his nostrils. The place was warm, which felt good since he was soaked, and he shed his leather jacket, giving it a little shake as he crossed the small dining room to the back table where Cas was sitting.

"Hey," Dean said, and without thinking, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he leaned down and dropped a kiss on Castiel's lips. He realized the casual intimacy of the gesture and flushed a little, coughing his embarrassment and he dropped into the chair.

Castiel, however, did not seem to mind the gesture. "Did you find it okay?"

Dean nodded, looking down at the menu, but none of the words made sense to him. The most exotic he usually got with Asian food was take-out Golden Dragon, or the drive-thru Panda Express. "Uh yeah," he finally said, looking up at his lunch date. "I had to park like freaking six blocks up though, and the rain wasn't fun." He looked around and felt a little better that the place seemed at least moderately clean. Still, there was almost no one inside and Dean remembered hearing from someone how you could always tell when the restaurant was good when there were people in it. "This food isn't going to kill me, is it?"

Castiel laughed loudly, his head shaking back and forth. "Just trust me, okay. I know this is outside of your comfort zone, but you'll be thanking me in about twenty minutes." Right then, a half-bald, older Vietnamese man approached the table. Cas bowed his head toward the man and then began to order… in Vietnamese. Or well, Dean assumed it was, since he didn't speak it. But it was… hot. It was hot to hear those foreign sounds rolling off Castiel's tongue, smoother than the French he taught.

Dean felt his slacks get tight and he cursed under his breath. He did not need to be carrying some giant stiffy back to work with him. Castiel finished up and then smiled over at Dean. "You're not allergic to seafood, are you?"

Dean frowned and shook his head. "Uh no, why?"

"The soup I ordered has shrimp and crab."

Before Dean could reply, a shorter woman, likely the older man's wife, approached the table with two tall glasses. Inside, they were filled to the top with ice and a creamy, tan liquid with giant, almost black globs sunk to the bottom. Dean eyed the beverage suspiciously as the woman laid out two of the largest, widest straws Dean had ever seen.

"Tapioca milk tea," Cas said. He unwrapped his straw, jabbed it through the ice and Dean watched as the teacher sucked up one of the dark, gooey balls. Cas chewed and smiled. "It's good. Try it, I promise."

Dean felt completely ill at ease, but he didn't want to embarrass himself or make Cas feel bad. He followed Castiel's steps, closed his eyes and braced himself for the uber yuck. Instead, what he found was creamy and rich, sweet and delicious. The tapioca ball wasn't entirely pleasant, if he could describe the sensation, he'd describe it as bouncy, though that didn't quite make sense. But he had to admit, Cas was right.

"It's interesting," he said, which was absolutely true.

Cas chuckled and sipped more of his tea. "So how did your morning go? Did you make it to work on time?"

"Twenty minutes late, with the boss chewing my ass on the way in," Dean said, his voice dropping a little from the remembered frustration. "But whatever, he can kiss my ass while he's down there chewing it."

"I hope it wasn't my fault that you were late."

Dean shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. "The dude's a prick, pardon my language. He's been gunning for my job since he was made chief, and it's killing him inside that no matter what he does, he can't get me fired."

"Why does he have such a huge problem with you?"

Dean shrugged. Truth be told, he didn't know. "I can only guess. He worked under my dad and hated him, probably just taking it out on me. But frankly, I don't give two shits. The dude is a terrible cop, and an even more terrible chief, and I think he knows it. Maybe he's afraid I'll come after his job."

Cas quirked an eyebrow. "Would you? Go after his job, I mean?"

Dean snorted into his tea and shook his head. "Hell no. There is no amount of money the state could pay me to take on that stress. That job killed my dad. Damn near killed me, in fact, so yeah, I think I'll pass."

Castiel pursed his lips slightly. "You were shot." It wasn't a question.

Dean nodded and followed Castiel's gaze to his shoulder where he assumed he'd seen the scar the bullet had left. "Damn near bled out, and while the paramedics were patching me up, the son of a bitch shot my dad. Sammy found him, but by the time he got the guys over, he was gone."

"Did you catch him?"

Dean nodded, flinching at the memory. "Not before one of his boys tried to gank Sammy. Stabbed him right in the back, damn near severed his spinal cord. He's still got trouble from time to time, but he's running five miles every morning now, and they told him at one point he'd never walk again. Either way, we managed to scrape by with our lives and I'm not in a hurry to be targeted like that again."

Before Castiel could ask anything else, the food arrived. It was different, the vegetables, meats and spices on a tray, and a boiling hot bowl of broth was set in front of them. Dean followed Castiel's lead, tearing pieces of coriander and dropping it into the broth, followed by the pieces of shrimp and crab, sprouts, onions, and finally a little jar of purple and red sauce.

"That's spicy," Cas said, pointing at the red sauce. "Be careful."

The last thing they added were rice noodles, and after a minute, Dean dipped his spoon in and took a bite. He wasn't sure what to expect, but it wasn't the incredible flavor explosion on his tongue. It was rich, spicy, fragrant, and amazing. Dean was no foodie, but Castiel was opening up a new world that Dean was liking. A lot.

"Jesus," he breathed.

"So you forgive me for making you trek over six blocks in the rain?"

Dean's mouth was too full to answer, so he nodded and continued to hoark down the food until he scraped the bowl clean. He was full, and sated, and warm all over.

"That was fantastic. I wish I had some way to repay you for these little food surprises," Dean said.

"Oh… oh I can think of a few ways," Cas said with a wink.

It surprised Dean. Cas was more reserved and a little shy, but he wasn't about to turn this man's advances down. Still, he realized when he checked his watch, the work day was only half over and he had a few more things to go over with Bobby.

"I hate to bail on you like this," he began.

Castiel waved him off and set down a wad of cash on the table. "Think nothing of it. It was a lunch date, I know you're working."

Dean attempted to add his own money to the table, but Cas slapped his hand. "Hey now," Dean said.

"Aren't the rules that the inviter pays for the invitee?"

Dean's cheeks pinked. He was most certainly not used to having his meals paid for unless the person was trying to get information from him. "Well next time it's on me. Deal?"

Cas nodded and they both walked out. The rain had let up some, and Dean looked mournfully at the very large, long hill he had to walk back up with such a full belly. "Thanks again. This was nice," he said to Cas quietly.

He didn't object when Cas carefully drew him in for a kiss. It was soft, polite, and short, but very, very nice. Cas hummed a little when he pulled away and smiled. "Will I see you again soon?"

"I hope so," Dean said. "This weekend I have to head back down to Santa Barbara…" he trailed off, and then spontaneously asked, "You wanna tag along? You can meet Ben, and honestly, I could do with the company. My brother's got some major case he's working on, and he's behind since he took time off to keep an eye on the kid."

Cas hesitated. "You don't think your son would mind? I mean, it's his mother and…"

"I think having another dude around for Ben to talk to will help. Trust me," and Dean meant it. Ben was a social kid, far more social than he'd ever been, and in stressful situations, having another person around for Ben to talk to helped. Especially a person who was the polar opposite of Dean.

"Can I think about it?"

That stung a little, but Dean hid it well. "Of course. Just shoot me a message and let me know."

Dean spent the next three hours with another detective, Ash, on vic family interviews. Ash was someone Dean worked with if Gabe was on other cases. He was a total head-case, recruited by Bobby years back, youngest person to ever make detective in the state of California, and only because he was a certified genius. Like text book, able to solve complicated equations and anything technical was a joke to him.

He graduated from MIT at fifteen, completed his Ph.D. at nineteen, and everyone thought it was crazy that he worked for the police department. In fact, the FBI, CIA, and pretty much every bureau in the world were always trying to get their hands on him. The amount of money he'd been offered was stupid, but as Ash put it, "Man, I like it here. Good beer, cute girls, nice bars, and I got my own little apartment with my Xbox. I mean, what more could I want?"

Dean, of course, thought he was insane, but he liked the kid. It made the day go by quicker, and by the time he got back to the station, Bobby was waiting. Ash said his hellos before wandering off, and Dean and Bobby hunkered down by Dean's desk.

"I got word on Meg earlier, she ain't exactly in hiding, but not broadcasting neither," Bobby said with a shrug. He'd already ditched the tie, and one of his top buttons was actually missing. He had a mustard stain on a patch of shirt just under his jacket, and he didn't seem to give two shits. "I'm not lettin' anyone know she's around until she gives you that call. I don't want you to record it, I just want you to see what she wants. We wanna get our hands on Crowley, we need her singin' like a canary and she ain't gonna do it if she thinks you're gonna rat her out."

Dean nodded, feeling the same way. "Yeah, sounds good. I'm fine laying low as long as someone has eyes on Ben. Sam can only take so much time away, and that son of a bitch Carver won't let me process my vacation time."

"I'll see what I can get workin' for ya," Bobby said with a shrug. "He may think he's hot shit here, but he has to answer to me when I'm around."

Dean grinned, knowing how fast that would get under Carver's skin. "That works for me, Bobby."

The older man sat back and kicked off his shoes, wiggling his toes in socks that had holes near the top. "So ran into Gabe earlier. That poncy bastard told me you got yourself some fancy French chef boyfriend. That true?"

Dean rolled his eyes, but couldn't help his smile. "I wouldn't call him my boyfriend," he said, hating the word boyfriend. I mean what was he, twelve? Writing notes and holding hands in the hallway? "We've only had two dates, but yeah, he's not bad."

"So it's fancy boys now, is it? Good ole country folk too rough for your delicate be-hind?"

Dean gagged a little and reached out to smack Bobby who laughed heartily. "He's a nice guy. I'm thinking about bringing him to Santa Barbara with me this weekend when we see Lisa."

Bobby's face fell at the mention of Ben's mom. "How is she, anyway? Docs give you any word?"

"No," Dean said with a sigh. "I'm going to call tomorrow and get an update. She was pretty bad, Bobby, and I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty scared she's not going to pull out of this."

"Ah, she's a strong woman. She took you on, didn't she? And won," he said and reached out to squeeze Dean's shoulder. "Anyway I gotta go finish up some paperwork crap those idjits at the office have been calling about all damn day. We havin' dinner at Sam's?"

"Yeah, Ben and I are staying there until I can take some time off," Dean said. "He'll be really happy to see you, Bobby."

The old man grinned from ear to ear. Bobby had been more of a grandfather to Ben than John ever had, and there were more than a few hunting and fishing trips he'd taken the kid on over the years. Dean felt a little safer and a little calmer now that most of their family was in town.

The old man got up to leave, but paused and turned to face Dean. "Oh that truck driver, the one who got Lisa. He gave up the name of the kid who tried to run down your boy. Adam Milligan. That name mean anything to you?"

Dean frowned, but nothing came to him. "Ah no, not really. Why?"

"Oh that loony toon down there in Santa Barbara said that you'd be invested in that kid, if you can find him. Personally I think he's full of crap, but I figured it was worth asking about."

Dean sat forward on his desk and wrote the name down. "Well if it's legit, at least we can ID the person who tried to take out Ben and go from there. Thanks, Bobby."

Bobby nodded and tipped Dean a wave before heading out. It was well past clock out time, and Dean was ready to go. He gathered his things, ignored Carver's glower as he walked out the front doors and headed to his car. He was a little more paranoid than usual, but despite the fog and rain, everything seemed normal.

He got into the car, smiled at the familiar roar, and started up the road. As predicted, the bridge was at a stand-still, and in the quiet moment of waiting for the traffic to pick up, Dean's phone rang. He hesitated when he saw Castiel's name on the screen. Castiel's hesitation had thrown him off at the restaurant, and he felt a momentary paranoia that the man was calling to tell Dean he just couldn't handle dating him, or dating a guy with a kid. Or a cop. Or Gabriel's brother in law.

He answered anyway. "Hello?"

"Have I caught you at a bad time?"

"Nope," Dean said, leaning back in his seat and resting his free hand on the top of the steering wheel. "Stuck on the damn bridge."

"Well I wanted to… wanted to apologize for earlier," Cas said.

Dean frowned. "Uh, for what?"

"My reaction when you invited me out of town," Cas said, and Dean's heart pumped just a little harder. "I'm not used to taking things seriously so fast, or at all. When my brother warned you about me and my reluctance to enter into a serious relationship, he was not lying."

Dean felt his heart sink. "Oh," was all he said.

"However, with you it feels different. We have a bond, though I can't explain it. A profound one, and I don't understand it, but the fact remains, it's there. And despite my natural reservations about relationships, as well as your apparent closeness with my family, I'd like to continue forward." Castiel took a long breath and let it out right into the speaker of the phone. "What I'm trying to say is, I'd be happy to meet your son and accompany you on the trip to Santa Barbara this weekend."

Dean was instantly glad this was a phone call, because he wasn't sure he'd be able to look Castiel in the eye if the other man could see the grin of relief on his face. He took a breath to steady himself. "Well I uh… I like you too, Cas." He cleared his throat. "So yeah, I'm glad, and I think Ben's really gonna like you."

"Will I be seeing you in tomorrow's class?"

"Not sure, but why don't you come by for dinner? My friend's in town, his name's Bobby, great guy. He works at the bureau and he's helping out on a case. I know it's tense with your brother, but maybe some food and crap will just help everyone calm down. Then you can meet Ben before we go, and if you change your mind… you know…"

"I won't change my mind," Cas said. "And alright, count me in. Just send me your brother's address and I'll be there."

"Great," Dean said. The traffic started to pick up. "I'd better get going, looks like I'm moving again. See you soon."


	8. Chapter 8

He found himself pacing. He told himself it wasn't nervous pacing, but who was he kidding. It seemed somewhat ridiculous that he'd even be worried about what Ben thought of his new… boyfriend? hook up? random-ass guy he was having casual sex with?... considering what was going on, but he was. He was also a little concerned about the whole Gabriel and Castiel conflict. The last thing he needed to deal with, hell the last thing Ben needed to deal with, were his uncle and estranged brother arguing.

Dean clutched the beer in his hand hard. It was another cool day, but somewhat muggy, and the glass bottle was sweating almost as much as he was. He gulped some down, wiping his mouth with the back of his thumb. Sam was prepping food for the grill, crab legs and roasted corn, and something about boiled shrimp, though Dean hadn't really been listening. He could hear Bobby in the game room with Ben, questioning the kid about the unrealistic semantics of the first person shooter, cop drama thing that Gabe bought him for Christmas.

He checked his phone once. Twice. A third time and Castiel was late. No phone call either. The teacher had been hesitant about the whole thing, so Dean was just a tad worried that he'd bail. I mean, if he hadn't spoken to Sam in that many years, how would he feel? Of course Dean knew how he'd feel, because when Sam bailed to go to Stanford, he hadn't seen the kid for nearly four years and that first meeting was awkward. Yet they'd moved past it and here they were, and maybe Castiel and Gabe would, too?

Dean reflected on Gabe for a moment and then snorted, shaking his head. Who was he kidding? Gabe was stubborn, and from what little he knew about Cas, so was the teacher. Yeah, it was all set up to be one great night. Dean's phone buzzed and he froze in front of the window, peering up the street.

The number on the screen looked familiar, but it wasn't Cas. He quickly hit talk and answered. "Winchester."

"Ah, Mr. Winchester, this is Dr. Rosen, I'm calling in regards to Lisa Braden."

Dean's heart leaped into his throat and all thoughts of Gabe, Cas, family drama and anything else went right out the window. "Yeah, yeah, okay. How… how is she? Please give me good news, doc?"

"Well, we were able to get the swelling in her brain reduced enough for me to feel comfortable weaning her out of her coma," the doctor said. "We'll begin a reduction of the mediation starting tomorrow morning. I was calling to see if you would be in the area. We need consent to do so, and you're listed on the form as her power of attorney should her son be under age."

"Uh… well yeah, I mean, we were planning on coming down," Dean said, letting out a breath. "It wouldn't be until late, but we'll be there."

"That's fine, Mr. Winchester. So far things are looking good. She has a great deal of healing to do, and we won't know the extent of her brain damage…"

"Woah," Dean said, almost dropping his beer, "she's… she's brain damaged?"

The doctor let out a small laugh. "Mr. Winchester, Lisa suffered severe trauma to her head, so there is some brain damage. I understand the connotation of that phrase and what it usually means, but that doesn't necessarily apply to her. We have no way of telling the scope of the damage until she wakes. If she wakes," he added.

Dean swallowed. "Oh. Right, yeah, sorry. I'm just a little… jumpy."

"It's perfectly normal, and hopefully by the time you arrive, we'll have a few more answers for you. Thank you, Mr. Winchester, and I will be seeing you soon."

Just as Dean hit the end button on the call, the doorbell rang. Nerves already fired up, Dean jumped and then scurried to the door, peering out the window to ensure it was, in fact, Castiel there. He looked a little hesitant, his usually pensive face even more drawn, and he was dressed more casually than usual, in jeans and a t-shirt.

Dean let himself have another breath before he opened the door. Cas smiled at the sight of Dean and held out a paper-bag covered bottle of wine. "I figured you had enough, but it's customary."

Stepping aside, Dean took the wine and dropped a kiss on Castiel's cheek. The gestures were getting more familiar, more intimate, but Dean liked it. He needed it right then, to not feel alone. He shut the door and appreciated that no one had bothered to come into the room.

"So uh, you gonna be okay with your brother and everything?"

Cas gave a small shrug. "I suppose this was unavoidable. I made the conscious choice to put myself in this situation the moment I learned about his relation to you, and chose to keep seeing you."

Dean felt his cheeks heat up a little. "Well, okay then. Everyone's this way. Bobby and Ben are in the game room, Sam's in the kitchen and actually, I have no idea where Gabe is."

"He's firing up the grill," came Sam's voice from the kitchen. He popped his head out and gave Castiel his most charming smile.

Rolling his eyes, Dean steered Cas into the expansive room and made the introductions. "Cas, this is my kid brother Sam, Sam, this is Cas."

Sam, who had been knuckles-deep in crushed tomatoes, quickly wiped his hands on a towel and then shook one of Castiel's. "Hey, it's really, really great to meet you. I know there's a lot of…" Sam hesitated, shrugging his shoulders a little, "you know… drama or whatever. But Gabe's told me a lot about you and I was hoping I'd get to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too," Cas said, clearly unsure how to reciprocate Sam's wordy hello.

"Drink?" Dean said to cut the tension.

"Please." Cas looked relieved for the interruption.

Dean grabbed the other man a beer and then said, "Well, you wanna meet the kid or your brother?" He peered out the back door and saw Gabe fiddling with the propane tank.

Cas shifted and then glanced down the hall where they could hear Bobby and Ben's raised voices over the game they were playing. "I don't want to interrupt them." He glanced out the door where Gabe was standing and then over to Dean.

"You want company out there or…"

Castiel shook his head, clutched his drink tighter in his hand and then went for the door. Dean shifted, stamping down the near physical urge to follow Cas, but Sam soon shoved a bowl of cucumbers at him.

"Dress these, will ya? Even you can fuck this up, just pour that over them and toss," Sam said and nodded to a small measuring cup with some sort of liquid in it. "And stop staring."

Dean rolled his eyes, but he was grateful for the distraction and began to toss the sliced cucumbers with the oil and vinegar dressing. Sam tossed in a handful of salt and pepper before he went back to the tomatoes.

"So you like this guy," he said after a moment. Dean looked up sharply and almost dropped the large spoon he was holding. "I haven't seen you like this since…" But Sam didn't say Benny because despite it having been a few years, that subject was too sore.

"Yeah he's okay," Dean said. He plunked the bowl on the table and looked out the window. Castiel was standing apart from Gabe, and both of their faces were drawn. It was in the body language, crossed arms, tilted heads, the occasional nod, that Dean could see the family resemblance.

"Well," Sam said from right over Dean's shoulder, scaring the older brother a bit, "they're not killing each other."

Dean let out a puff of air. "That's good, right? I mean, did Gabe say anything about Cas coming over?" Sam didn't say anything, but when Dean looked up at his brother's face, he could tell Sam was holding something back. "What is it?" he pushed. "Seriously dude, tell me or I'm going to kick your ass right in the middle of the kitchen."

Sam rolled his eyes and stepped back. "Dude, you haven't been able to take me for years. Even when I couldn't walk I could kick your ass." He grinned but then said, "He just seemed a little apprehensive about him."

"Apprehensive?" Dean echoed.

Sam reached into the fridge and pulled out a tall plate of burgers waiting to be cooked. "Dude, you know how he is. He's worse than you with confronting his feelings, especially when it's serious family stuff. Hell, we only had half of his siblings at the wedding, and even then he was tense as shit."

"Did you tell him I was taking Cas with me to see Lisa?"

"Yeah."

"And? Did he seem nervous or anything?"

Sam gave a shrug. "He didn't say much about it. Look dude, he knows you can take care of yourself, and as much as we give you shit over your judge of character, we both know you'd never put your son with some dude you didn't totally trust." He sighed and hoisted the plate up onto one hand. "Anyway, I'm gonna go interrupt their chat like a total a-hole so we can get food going."

Dean nodded and then stood there in the kitchen, watching his brother stroll across the lawn. He kissed Gabe casually, smiled at Cas, and Dean could tell that they were making polite, small talk. Dean studied Cas a little more, watching his body language, his face, his expressions. Sure he was awkward, and a little private, but he did trust him, right? There wasn't anything untoward about that man. And he'd never, ever put his son into a dangerous situation.  
Would he?

"You know, I've never smoked a cigar," Cas said as he puffed on the one Dean had given him. The couple was sitting outside under the stars, watching the lights of the boats in the distance flicker in and out of the fog. The wet air kept the evening warm enough to enjoy sitting out, despite the occasional chilled breeze whipping up from the bay waters.

They were hunkered down on Sam's comfortable, outdoor loveseat, a flannel blanket draped across their knees. The dinner had gone very well, and Cas had gotten along with everyone. Ben seemed to like him, and even Bobby had given his blessing by the end of the evening.

Gabe and Sam had turned in early, Bobby heading out just after to the hotel he was staying at, and Ben retired to his laptop in his room. Cas seemed a little hesitant until Dean dragged him out and offered him one of his more guilty pleasures.

"How's it so far?"

Cas smiled and nudged himself just a fraction closer to Dean. "Not bad. Might not want to make a habit of it, but I see why you like them."

Dean smiled and puffed a little more. "So, tonight went well." It was more of a question, and he looked at Cas hard.

Cas shifted and then let out a small laugh. "I don't know what you were expecting, Dean."

"Oh I don't know. When it comes to my family fights, there's usually a lot more swearing, flying objects, knives, someone often gets shot."

Castiel coughed and shifted to look at Dean. "I presume you're joking."

"Mostly, though when he was fifteen, Sam did shove a butcher knife through my bedroom door. I was standing against it, holding it shut, and the damn thing went straight into my arm. I ended up stitching myself up because I didn't want my dad to find out Sammy and I had been fighting."

Cas quirked a brow. "My family fights are far more passive aggressive. A lot of martyrs and self-serving sacrifices. I think I was the only one who openly rebelled. Except maybe Balthazar, but then again, he's always been different. He's the only one who ever bothered to visit when I left."

"Yeah I met that dude. He was… interesting."

"Oh I'm sure," Cas said with a smile. "Either way, I am glad my brother and I spoke. It wasn't entirely without tension, but I suppose we can make something work."

The pair of them fell quiet, moving together so Dean's arm was around Cas, and Castiel's head was leaning on Dean's shoulder. The wind picked up a little, and in another life, it would have been one of those romance-movie moments. Cas turned his face up and Dean bent down, kissing him. Both of their mouths were dense and smoky, but neither seemed to mind.

Castiel let his cigar drop and Dean caught it with the heel of his boot, crushing out the red cherry to dust, all the while making good use of his teeth and tongue. Cas clenched the front of Dean's shirt in his fist, straining the buttons, but not breaking them, and Dean shifted so Cas was pinning him against the side of the loveseat.

"Perhaps this is an inappropriate place," Cas muttered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "If your son you know…"

"Yeah," Dean said, swallowing hard. "Yeah I um… probably best if we uh…" He licked his lips and then dove in for another. His jeans were uncomfortably tight and he could feel himself throbbing against Castiel's firm thigh, and god, as Cas ground up against him he just wanted to take him right there.

He pulled himself back physically and sat up slightly. "We can continue this another time."

Cas nodded. "I agree."

They took a moment to calm down, Dean sipping on his tepid beer until they both felt in control enough to stand up and walk in. The house was dark and silent, and they tiptoed across to the front door so no one would wake up. Dean kissed Castiel again, leaning against the open security gate, and hummed with pleasure against the other man's lips.

"See you tomorrow?"

"I'll be ready."

"I'll swing by your apartment just before we hit the road. I'll call you," and then he grabbed Cas once more and after the kiss, he pressed his forehead's to the teacher's. "Thanks for coming over tonight. It um… it means a lot."

Castiel smiled and cupped his hand around the back of Dean's neck, giving him a slight, affectionate tug. "I know," he said softly, and then he turned and left.

Dean woke early the next morning, grateful he refrained from overcompensating his frayed nerves with alcohol the previous evening. He showered, popped his head in to see Ben still fast asleep, and then grabbed his coffee to go.

Sliding into Baby's front seat, he glanced at his phone, pleased to see even if there was an accident on the bridge today, he'd still probably be early. He gave the engine a good roar and then peeled out onto the street.

He was just turning onto the main road when a quiet voice almost sent him careening into traffic. "Hey there good lookin'. You goin' my way?"

Dean squealed the tires back into a straight line and wrenched the rearview mirror down to view the intruder in the back seat. The face, despite a shit hair dye job from black to blonde, was an unwelcome one. "How the hell did you get into my car, Meg?"  
"Oh now, what kind of greeting is that for an old friend?" she asked. With a grin, she leaned forward, draping her arms over the front seat.

Dean glared back at her and shook his head. Pulling off, he threw the car in park and drew his gun, pointing it at her face. "My son's mother is in a coma, someone tried to kill my son, and now here you are. So talk or I give you a pretty red stain on that nice blouse of yours."

"Mmm," she said with a wink, sitting back and holding her hands up in the air, "When did you get so… ballsy?"

"Talk," Dean barked.

With a sigh, Meg dropped her hands. "You were never one for foreplay. I guess you and Castiel do make a good match." Dean's jaw tensed, but before he could say anything, Meg went on. "Did they tell you about the kid? Adam?"

Dean gave a little shrug, his grip on his gun still tight. "Not much, why?"

Meg licked her lips and for the first time since Dean had met her, she looked nervous. "Look, I'm probably not going to walk out of this situation alive, okay? I have all of the information you need on Crowley. That name they've got, he's important."

"How so," Dean demanded. "Quit playing word games and just talk."

"His last name is Milligan, but it should be Winchester."

Dean blinked. "Come again?"

"He's your brother," Meg said, and gave an almost-apologetic smile. "I know you think I'm full of shit, but I'm not. The only reason I'm spilling my guts right now is so maybe, just maybe, you and your idiot friends can get the jump on Crowley before he takes me out. He knows that I have all the information. In fact, I was sitting pretty with it, drink in my hand, sand beneath my toes. But that son of a bitch tracked me down and now I'm stuck here in this shithole city living out of take-out boxes and sleeping with one eye open. It's not a life I want to lead, Dean."

Dean was staring at her with narrow eyes. She seemed sincere, and hell, maybe she believed it. But there was no damn way. Mary had died when Sam was a baby. There was no third brother. "Look sweetheart, I'm sure you have all the information Crowley fed into your fucked up little head, but I don't have a brother."

Meg smiled. "Oh honey, you're in for a pretty nasty wakeup call if you don't listen to every word I'm saying right now. Crowley is coming after you. He's coming after your kid, your brother, even that hot piece of ass your brother's married to. He's going to take out Clarence, and your idiot hick friend, and anyone you've ever spoken to if you don't get the jump on him now. He's got a network, Dean, bigger than you could dream possible, and he's got your dad's greatest secret under his thumb. So you'd better track down Adam, and fast, otherwise it's going down, and I don't think anyone's going to save your ass." With that, Meg threw open the door and stepped out. Before she closed it, she looked Dean straight in the eye and said, "Oh and by the way, there's at least four people at the station who are being paid by Crowley, and I'm not sure who it is, but at least one of them knows you. Very well. Caio!"

Before Dean could react, she was gone. She'd slipped through a fence of a nearby house and disappeared. Feeling sick, Dean put his gun away and turned back to the wheel. He was on auto-pilot as his hand put the car back into gear and he pulled out onto the street.

There was no way that bitch could be right. No way. No freaking way. He didn't have some secret brother. There is no way his dad would keep that from him and Sam. Not possible. And if someone at the station was a rat, it wasn't anyone close to Dean. The people he trusted, he trusted for a reason. No one was selling him out to that smarmy son of a bitch.

But he was shaken up now, and before he left town, he was determined to find out who this Adam Milligan was, and determined to find out if he ever had any connections to John Winchester.


	9. Chapter 9

Had it not been for the pressing matter of driving down to see Lisa, Dean probably would have felt a little more on edge. But all thoughts of this Adam guy, and what Meg had said, and the potential danger they were in had been eclipsed by the nerves of his son.

"What if," Ben said quietly as they drove across the bridge to pick up Castiel. He paused and swallowed thickly. "What if she, you know…" He didn't need to finish the sentence. Dean knew exactly what the boy was getting at, and his knuckles reflexively clenched on the steering wheel.

"We're not going to make any assumptions until we see her and get more information. Got it?" Dean said gruffly. "No what-ifs." Ben was pale, and nodded, but it was obvious his head was still spinning with all of the possible outcomes. Dean shifted slightly in the seat and reached out to give Ben's shoulder a squeeze. "Look, kid, your mom is a tough woman. She's the biggest bitch I know," and when Ben's eyes snapped up to Dean's face, Dean smiled. "You know I'm right. She could level a city with her mouth if she wanted to. Some freaking car accident isn't going to take her out, okay?"

Ben let out a shaking breath and nodded. "It's just… I mean, she's human. She's not some superhero, even if she thinks she is half the time. Anyone can get fucked up in an accident, dad. Anyone can die."

"She ain't dead yet, boy," Dean said, and almost laughed at how much he was sounding like Bobby. Ah and how he always swore he never would.

They reached Castiel's apartment and though Ben wanted to stay in the car, Dean wouldn't let him. With the potential threat to his life, there was no way Dean was letting his kid out of his sight. They climbed the stairs to the teacher's apartment and knocked.

Cas looked tense as he opened the door, and gave an uncomfortable smile to the father and son as he stepped aside to let them in. "I'm just finishing up with my plants."

Dean nodded and realized he hadn't paid much attention to Castiel's apartment besides the food, booze, bedroom and the naked man pounding him. He felt his face heat up at the memory and looked away before Ben noticed.

Cas fussed with the small houseplants that littered the kitchen window. Herbs, it looked like, a few flowers, a tall, blooming orchid that sat near the sink. Dean watched as Castiel carefully measured out water and misted the orchid, and felt a surge of affection. Maybe it was stupid to get emotionally involved with anyone right now, especially a man with connections to the bad guys, but he couldn't help it. He was falling for this awkward man. Hard.

But he didn't have long to dwell on it. Cas was true to his word and finished up quickly. He had one small bag with him, and threw it into the Impala's trunk as Ben climbed in the back. Cas tried to protest, but Ben already had his headphones on and was blasting something they could both hear despite the noise-cancelling cushions surrounding the speakers.

"Ah it's fine," Dean said as Castiel looked uncomfortable. "He prefers it back there. He's just… he's stressed out right now. About his mom."

"Understandably," Cas said with a nod. "I just don't want to displace your son."

Dean smiled a little and took off down the road. It was a long drive, agonizingly so, and they didn't talk much. When Ben dozed off about an hour outside of Santa Barbara, Dean reached over and gave Castiel's wrist a squeeze.

Cas looked surprised, but smiled up at him. "Were you able to get an update on Ben's mother today?"

Dean shook his head. "We have to give consent for them to take her off the meds. I think we'll probably know more tomorrow, maybe Sunday once she's come out of it." He paused and then allowed himself to say, "If she comes out of it."

"I'm sure she'll be fine," Cas said, though his voice carried little inflection.

"I keep trying to be strong for the kid, you know?" Dean said, nodding his head back to his sleeping son. "Trying to stay positive and all that crap, but truthfully, I'm scared as hell. I mean, what the hell am I going to do if she's fucked up, Cas? What if she needs like, round the clock care? What if they ask me to make that choice to take her off life support? I mean, this is the mother of my son. How the hell can I make a decision like that?"

This time Castiel took Dean's hand, and he didn't let it go. "You won't know until that circumstance presents itself, Dean. As painful as it is, as frustrating, you might have to make that choice."

Dean shook his head slightly back and forth. Not disagreeing with Castiel so much as he was hating the position he'd been put in. But the warm hand clenching his was a comfort, and he didn't let it go. He didn't always want that kind of affection, but right now, he needed it.

The paper signing came with less information than Dean had been hoping to get, but so far the reports on Lisa were good. Her brain activity was increasing, and she was responding to physical stimuli. It wasn't answers, but it was hope.

Dean visited, but only briefly, leaving the remaining hour they had to Ben. He and Castiel headed down to the small coffee shop and grabbed a drink, hunkering down in a booth while they waited for the kid to visit with his mother.

"I can't imagine how hard this must be on him. He's definitely a strong boy," Castiel remarked as they sat in a tense silence.

Dean gave a little huff and smiled. "Yeah. Not like his old man."

"Do you always sell yourself short?" Cas asked. When Dean frowned, Cas gave a shrug and said, "I don't know you as well as I'd like, yet, but from the history you've shared, you're not giving yourself much credit. Not many men could stand up to their superiors the way you did."

Dean smiled but shook his head. "It was more defiance than bravery, believe me. But… thanks." Dean was shit at taking compliments, and he was trying to accept the praise Cas was giving him, as awkward as it was, but it was appreciated either way.

"Can we stay at my place?" Ben's voice startled both men in their quiet resting, and Dean looked up at his son with a smile.

"Uh, sure. If that's what you want?"

"I'd kind of like to just be in my own space right now. If… if that's okay?"

Dean could not deny that request, and they quickly made their way back to Lisa's place. It was empty at the moment, her dead fiance's family having already vacated the home since Lisa would not be recovering any time soon.

Ben used his key and disarmed the alarm as the three of them walked in. There was electricity, but the AC had been turned off and the house was stale. A faint odor was coming from the kitchen, and Dean sent Ben off to his room while he went in to inspect it. Food was rotting in the sink, now very old and unpleasant.

He and Cas worked silently to clear it up, and Dean went to the back door to open the windows. He'd only spent a little time in Lisa's house. It always felt like an invasion of her privacy, even when she invited him in. He'd hurt her, despite the break-up being mutual, and he felt like the more he as around, the more she remembered it.

"This is uncomfortable for you," Castiel remarked.

Dean turned away from the back door and gave a shrug. "Yeah well, I didn't think it was going to be easy. And staying in my ex's house is a little…"

"Odd," Castiel finished. Dean huffed a laugh as Cas went to the fridge and pulled out two beers. "She has good taste," he remarked as he passed one to Dean.

"Yeah. Always did." Dean cracked the top and took a long swig. It was good, and he forced himself not to think about how he was probably drinking a dead man's beer. A dead man who'd been shacking up with his ex and raising his kid. God, it was just so fucked up. He emptied the bottle without realizing it, and accepted a second from Castiel.

"Perhaps I should stay elsewhere," Cas offered. "I realize Ben doesn't mind me on the trip but staying here…"

"Ah no, he's fine," Dean said. "I may not give the boy credit all the time, but he's not broken up about me and his mom. I took off before she even knew she was pregnant."

"Oh," was all Cas said.

After a few more beers, the pair climbed the stairs and Dean made his way to the guest bedroom he knew would be available. It was obviously not used by guests often, holding Lisa's computer desk, a treadmill and a few rubber bins of old clothes and Christmas decorations. But the sheets were clean enough, if not fit for a granny rather than a cop. Dean sat on the edge and shook his head.

"Hopefully we'll know something more by morning," he said, more to himself than Cas. He looked up at the other man who was regarding him, standing tall in the corner of the room, eyes dark and intense.

Dean felt his mouth start to water, desire uncoil in his stomach and as much as it was the most inappropriate time and inappropriate place, he rose and closed the distance between them. Castiel was receptive, arms open, hands tearing into Dean's hair, up the back of his shirt as Dean's mouth devoured his. Dean pressed the teacher against the wall hard, ignoring the thump that Ben must have heard, and he slipped his knee between Castiel's legs.

"Are you sure…" Cas gasped.

"I'm so sure. I mean, this is wrong, so fucking wrong, but goddamn Cas, I just… I need you right now," Dean murmured against Castiel's hot skin.

That was all Castiel needed. He was so much stronger than he looked as he physically lifted Dean up and lowered him to the bed. Dean bit his lip as Cas began to pull open his shirt, undoing the buttons to his jeans, the belt discarded on the floor with a heavy clink. Castiel's fingers were soft, prodding, hot as they dipped below the waistband of his underwear and gripped him.

Dean was desperate as he yanked off Castiel's coat, kicking it to the side, tugging at the jeans, wanting more, all of it, everything. Their mouths ripped at each other, harsh and unkind, but exactly what Dean needed right then. He wanted comfort, but mostly he wanted to feel something other than this crushing despair that Lisa might not get better, that Ben might stay forever, that his job was corrupt, that his life was in danger.

He needed these fingers now dipping into him, coated in lube he didn't know Cas had brought. Then he felt his own fingers coated as Castiel, now devoid of clothes, maneuvered himself beneath Dean and begged him, "Take me."

Dean's jaw quivered with the intensity of his desire as he prodded and poked, feeling the tightness surround him to the knuckle, and god he wanted that feeling around the rest of him. He wanted to be buried deep inside of this man, to the hilt, to feel him quiver beneath him, crying his name.

Castiel did not disappoint. He was tight, but willing and receptive, and he bucked his hips right along with Dean's, tightening himself around Dean, almost throwing the detective over the edge right there. He felt wetness beneath him and Dean quickly grabbed on to Castiel, stroking him hard and fast, with the rhythm of his thrusts until Castiel cried out, biting Dean's name into his shoulder.

That was all it took for Dean to let loose, and he did. He spilled and spilled, his orgasm crashing like waves and draining him. He collapsed to the side, letting himself slide out and didn't protest when Cas got up to remove the condom and clean them both up.

Dean was bone-tired as Cas carefully situated himself and Dean under the blankets and lay there, his hand carefully cupped over Dean's, giving the detective room to pull away if he wished. He didn't though, at all, and Dean rolled over to nuzzle against Castiel's shoulder.

"I wish," Dean said slowly, his voice groggy and thick with desire to rest, "that I could have met you when things weren't so complicated. I wish I wasn't so consumed with everything else in my life. You deserve better than that."

"Don't presume to know what I deserve, Dean," Cas said quietly, and he threaded his fingers into Dean's hair. "What I have with you is enough. It's more than I deserve. So… thank you."

Dean woke up with a light hangover and found himself deeply regretting all the beers. It was later than he planned on sleeping, and he stumbled out of bed, grabbing his jeans and boxers. Cas was still dead to the world, and Dean felt it was only fair to let him sleep after last night.

Ben was probably awake, and Dean figured they'd get some breakfast before heading back to the hospital. He crept downstairs but was surprised to see he was alone. He fished around the cupboards, but there wasn't coffee. "Fucking figures," he muttered to himself.

The clock on the stove read nine, and it was late enough already. Visiting hours had begun an hour ago, and Dean was wasting precious time. Ben would forgive him for the wake-up call. He marched up the steps and poked his head into the guest room to see Castiel blinking.

"Hey, I think we should get some grub before we head to the hospital."

Cas nodded. "I'll get right up."

Dean nodded and then padded down the hall to Ben's room. He tried the knob, but it was locked, so he pounded on the door to try and wake the kid up. "Rise and shine, kid. Let's go get some food."

He waited, but there was nothing. Perhaps the boy had his headphones on? Dean hit the door harder, louder, his voice taking on a note of hysteria bringing Castiel out into the hall. "Hey! Hey Ben! Headphones off, man! We gotta get going!"

When no answer came, Dean pressed his ear to the door. "Shit," he muttered. There was no sound at all. Looking back at Cas, feeling panic welling up inside of him, Dean raised his foot and kicked the door. Once. Twice. The door cracked. The third time was the charm, and the jamb gave way.

Dean stormed into the room and saw it hadn't been slept in. Ben's bag was there, but his phone was not. Threading his fingers into his hair, Dean looked around in panic until his eyes fell on the window and he cursed. "No," he breathed. "No god." Ben was gone, and Dean was absolutely certain that someone had taken him.


End file.
